Running from You

22

"Do you know where he is?"
"No idea" I say, looking out the window nervously as we pull up. My mom stops, and looks at me.
"Do you need my help?" she asks.
"I think I can handle it. I'll come get you if I need you".
"That's fine honey, I'll just sit here and fall asleep on the steering wheel" she says, and she closes her eyes. "Go get him".
"Thanks mom" I say, and I jump out of the car. I sprint across the train station. Toilets. He mentioned toilets. I scan the completely empty station, the motion sensored lights flicking on. My eyes lock on a small, abandoned toilet stall. It's out of use, the small metallic plate rusted so bad you can't even see the word 'toilet' anymore. I walk over to it, and sigh when I hear the sound of someone trying to catch their breath. I walk around the building, and then I see him.

He looks worse than he ever has.

He's sitting against the wall of the toilet, his knees pulled up to his chest and his arms wrapped so tightly around them that his knuckled have turned white. He's rocking back and forth lightly, his chest moving up and down so quickly that I wonder if he's even breathing at all. His eyes, which are constantly moving and don't focus on anything for even a second, have big, dark circles under them, contrasting heavily against his much too pale skin. His hair, which is messy and dirty looking, is hanging over his eyebrows, covering one of his eyes a little bit.
"Lucas?" I ask, noticing my voice is shaking. He doesn't react to my presence in the slightest. I see his backpack flung somewhere to the side, a bottle of water rolling out of it.

I grab the bottle, and walk towards Lucas, kneeling down in front of him.
"Hey, Lucas?" I ask, and I put a hand on his knee. Finally, his eye movements get less frantic, and he looks at me. Occasionally, he still glanced at every single thing that makes the tiniest kind of sound, but his main focus seems to be on me. Or at least he seems to be trying.

"It's okay, I'm here" I say, putting the bottle down and putting my hands on his shoulders. "You can breathe now. I'll help".
I can feel him shaking under my hands.
"Hold your breath" I say. He does so.
"Okay, out".
He huffs out the little amount of oxygen in his lungs.
"And now in".
He takes in as much air as he can.
"And out".
I repeat the cycle of breathing in and out, until the shaking finally gets less severe, and he manages to breathe on his own again. His eyes finally stop moving, and he focuses on my face now.

"Hey" he manages.
I smile, laughing quietly.
"Hi" I say.
He stares at me for another second, before leaning forward and dropping his head against my shoulder. I put my arms around him, and shift positions a little so it's easier to hug him. He hugs me back, and takes a deep breath. Then, he pulls away. I hand him the bottle, and he drinks half the water inside it in one go.
"I'm sorry" he says. "I freaked out and you were the first person I thought about".
"Don't apologize" I say. "I'd rather have you explaining why you're here, and not on a plane to Paris".
He stares at the tiles for a second, before rubbing in his eyes and moving his knees down, shifting his position a little.

"Okay" he says quietly. "Just... Don't get too worried. It's not that bad".
"Worried? Why would I..."
He moves his hair back, revealing a fresh looking wound on his forehead, stopping right above his eyebrow. There's a bruise spreading around it, already turning purple. I frown, shifting a little closer to him as I inspect the injury.
"What happened?" I ask, resisting the urge to touch it.
"Well, we were at the airport, way too early, and my bag went through security and it started beeping" he explains. I raise an eyebrow. Even in the dark I can see his cheeks flushing red.
"It turns out I left my spoon in the bag" he says quietly.
"Lucas..."
I sigh, shaking my head.
"Wow. Just... wow".

He stares at the ground for a second.
"Sorry" he mutters.
"Don't apologize, I'm not mad at you" I say, chuckling quietly. "Frankly, I think it's kind of hilarious".
"My dad didn't think it was that funny" he sighs. "And he was mad at me".
I narrow my eyes, and feel a suspicion creeping up in me.
"He didn't" I say.
"He didn't mean to" Lucas defends. "He just wanted to throw the spoon away, not throw it at me... I think..."
"He threw it at you?" I ask, in disbelief. He tenses up for a moment, but nods.
"Yeah" he mutters. "So my mom got mad at him, and then I got mad at them both. And then my dad yelled at me... He said, if I didn't stop complaining, I should just go home and live with you".
He's quiet for a moment. I stare at him, my eyes wide.
"So I did" he says quietly. "I took the next train I could that went here. I just arrived at the station when I realised I had nowhere to go. I called you in blind panic, I didn't think you'd actually pick up".

I sit for a moment, processing that information.
"Lucas" I say quietly. "I don't know if you can just... Live with me".
He nods, still staring at the floor.
"I know that. But I really didn't want to go to Paris, so I... I thought... I thought a lot of things. And I didn't know what thought I had to listen to. I probably chose the wrong one though, I'll just-"
"I'll help you" I say, and he looks up at me. A smile comes to his face.
"And if it were up to me, you could live with us. But my mom probably doesn't agree, and maybe it would be best if we didn't live in one house".
He chuckles.
"We'd never get any sleep" I sigh.
"Like an everlasting sleepover" he says, excitement filling his eyes.

I smile at him, before getting up.
"We should probably go to my house. I still need to go to school tomorrow" I say.
He nods, and reaches his hands out. I roll my eyes.
"You can't get up by yourself?" I scoff.
"I think I'll have another panic attack if I tried" he says. "But hey, if that's what you want..."
I grab his hands and yank him to his feet, rolling my eyes again.
"I only did that to shut you up, not because I actually thought you'd have another panic attack" I say, letting go of his hands and walking towards his backpack.
"Let's go back and see if my mom's unconscious already".
We walk around the toilet building, and I can see the car standing far away in the dark. I look at my phone for the time.
"4 am" I sigh. "I hope my mom can still drive".

I continue walking, but suddenly, Lucas stops me by grabbing my hand. I turn around to face him, confused by his shy expression. He looks at the ground again, his hair covering up his eyes.
"It's 4 am" he says quietly.
"Yeah" I say. "So we should really g-"
"And you're here" he follows. I frown.
"Pretty sure, yeah. Unless this is some kind of hyper realistic dream".
He looks up at me, pushing his hair out of his eyes.
"You just... Came here. Without hesitation. Or even an explanation. I called and you picked up and immediately came here".

"Of course I came" I say, and I shrug. "I'd do anything for you".
His gaze locks on mine. Even in the dim, crappy, train station lights, his eyes are a clear, dark, emerald green colour, little sparkles giving them character. Making them his.
"Anything?" he asks quietly, a blush appearing on his face. I feel my heart stop for a moment as he slowly intertwines his fingers with mine and takes a small step closer to me.
"Anything" I breathe out, losing my nonchalance as I stare right into his eyes. He's looking at me with a familiar look in his eyes. I can't recall where I saw it, but I know I've seen it before. There's a vague memory of annoyance linked to it.

However, I don't feel annoyed now. I feel all kinds of things, like a much too rapid heartbeat, a significant heat rising up in my face and a strange kind of itch in the insides of my stomach. He's standing so close to me, I could kiss him. I could do it. All I need to do is lean forward and press my lips onto his. Just thinking about it makes my insides do backflips and pirouettes. However, I feel like kissing him would contradict my point that there's no pressure on him and that I don't mind not being in a romantic relationship with him.

So I take a step back, and smile at him.
"Let's go, I need sleep" I say. He blinks a couple of times, and then giggles nervously.
"Yeah, me too" he says, also taking a bit more distance. But I don't let go of his hand yet. That just seems unnecessary. I turn around, and pull him along with me, to the car. I open the back door, and get in. Lucas gets in next to me while I wake up my mom, and she starts the engine.
"Hey sweetie" she murmurs to Lucas, repressing a yawn. "Just tell me tomorrow morning, after I wake up".
Lucas has a guilty look on his face, but he smiles politely at her. I stare at him, giving his hand a light squeeze. He looks back at me, and smiles, before leaning his head against the window and closing his eyes.

ШШШ