Mute | Luke Hemmings &' Ashton Irwin (Lashton/5SOS)

Chapter 8

I awoke myself the next morning with Luke's small frame snuggled into my chest tightly. The sight was nothing too unfamiliar to me and neither was the flutter deep within my chest that I've learned only this boy can cause.

Luke's lips were slightly apart as the sound of slight small snores escaped. He was beautiful, even in sleep. It was mesmerizing.

For a moment, time seemed still. For a moment, this seemed normal, us. We seemed perfect. Although the two of us were far from it, well at least I was.

In those passing moments I hadn't wondered how I was going to explain Luke in my arms to Eric who was sleeping in his bed adjacent from us. I hadn't wondered what the other boys would think and I most certainly hadn't wondered what Richard thought at the sight of me actually bringing someone here.

I never brought anyone here, no matter how meaningful they were to me. Calum's my best friend and I still hadn't told him the truth, but the minute Luke went against me in taking him home, I caved and brought him here. I couldn't really tell if I had simply just had a soft spot for Luke and his wishes or if he was just a single strong weakness of mine I could never disobey.

As my thoughts began to go further in depth within my feelings for Luke, I silently recall the slip of his voice last night making me smile widely to myself.

I've only ever heard his voice twice now and both still seem like a dream. He was a dream, the only dream I'd ever dream. His voice was beautiful, low and slow with a hint of innocent that's almost craving for reassurance, for care.

I wish to be all these things for Luke. I wish for nothing more than for him to turn to me when needing guidance, reassurance, anything really, but that isn't up to me, but solely to him and him alone.

Luke began to stir in my arms before yawning lowly. I've always wondered why he didn't speak. I can't really decipher if he's chosen not to or if he feels like his voice isn't up to par like the rest of us, but I hope neither is the case because it isn't something he should be doing alone.

These are all reasons why Bradley hardly talks unless it's with gestures and his eyes. Sometimes on bad days, he just can't seem to get the words out, well all the right ones he needs. Over the years he's learned to overcome it to some degree with the help of all of us, but the thought of Luke not having help and support at home makes my heart ache in pain.

Minutes pass and I finally realize Luke's fully awake, reluctantly snuggling into my hold further and placing his head against my chest instead of the pillow.

He smiles at me weakly, almost wondering if this is okay and I place my head on top of his for his own silent answer.

Over the course of the beginning months of school I've learned to understand Luke in ways I haven't before and I'm grateful for that. I'm grateful he allows me to be this close with him even when I don't deserve an ounce of him. No one deserves anything from Luke. He's too precious to be in such a cruel world and I hope he knows that whenever anyone is giving him a hard time for who he is.

Looking at the alarm clock and squinting to see the time, I realize it's just about 10. I know today is going to be an eventful day already. I have to figure out how to get Luke safely home whilist dealing with the other boys' questions and assumptions as to why he's even here, as well as Richard's punishment for disobeying curfew once more, and Bradley's silent treatment I know I'm going to get for not coming home in time for his bed time.

"Let's go to the kitchen, love," I whisper into Luke's ear only to be met with a confused look. "You're going to help me make breakfast." I laugh at the eager filled expression that displays on his face.