Almost ~~ Luke Hemmings *on hold*

Chapter 8

Luke's POV:

I wake up in an awkward position and know that I'm not on my bed. This is more comfortable than my bed. And I'm warm. My apartment isn't warm. 

There's a wet cloth over my eye so I gingerly reach up and remove it. The events that have taken place in the past few hours register in my mind and I sit up on Celeste's couch. Neither Celeste nor Michael are in the room with me, so I sit still and wait for one to appear. Preferably Celeste.

I don't mind either of the two, but Michael can be quite intimidating. He's really good at fighting, I can tell. You can never avoid hearing about somebody he beat up from someone in the halls at school. He is nice to me, though. It just scares me to know that one day, he could hurt me the way my father does. 

After a few minutes of sitting and waiting, Michael walks in the room. "Hey," he greets with a smile. I wave a little back, hiding the scars on the underside of my arms. They're worse than the ones on top of my arms, though I'm sure they've already seen them since the blood from Celeste's face is off of my wrists. I feel uncomfortable without my sweatshirt on. "How are you?" I shrug. Michael bites his lip and looks at my face, making me want to shrink into the couch. This is an uncomfortable situation for me, I've never really had good friends so I don't know how to act. "Your eye doesn't look so bad, if that makes you feel any better." He sits on the loveseat across from the couch.

Something about Michael makes me feel like I can trust him. He just has a protective air around him, like if you're his friend he will be loyal and protect you to any extent. You can tell he's serious about protecting his friends by the way he protects Celeste. I mean, they haven't even known each other for ten years but they're as close as best friends can be.

With an awkward look on his face, Michael starts talking again. "Hey, uh, Celeste keeps saying that she thinks there's something going on with you." My head shoots up to look at him and I immediately worry. Did she find out? How would she have found out? I can't let any information on my home life get out. It'd make my life a lot worse. "I just want to tell you that if you ever need anything, I'm here. I was taken away from a pretty bad situation before going to the adoption center. You can talk to me if anything's wrong. I'll understand." Michael? In a bad situation? You'd never be able to tell from how he carries himself. 

"Thanks, Michael, I'll remember that," I tell him with a nod, lifting one corner of my mouth into a fake half-smile. 

He looks surprised to hear me talk. "I wasn't expecting you to answer, that was awesome." The way Michael acts out of school and situations that involve punching someone is so very different to how he acts in those situations. I'm not sure which one is his actual personality, though I'm sure it's this one. Caring. "By the way, our parents are going to be home in about an hour. Do you want to have something to eat before they get here?" Oh god. Parents. I already know I'm going to be really awkward and shy around them, so I just nod to Michael. Food that doesn't come from a dumpster sounds lovely. I think the last time I had hot food was over two months ago. Michael grins and stands, telling me to follow him. 

Celeste is sitting at the table in their kitchen, doing homework. She looks up a bit, not a lot, but enough for me to see the bruises on her cheek and nose. I couldn't really see them that well earlier because my eye was so swollen and there was blood smeared across her face, but now that I do... wow. And her eye is bruised, like mine but not swollen at all. Her skin is so pale that the bruises stand out so much. 

I don't realise I'm staring until Michael talks to me. "Luke, stop ogling my sister and c'mere," his voice has a teasing tone in it so I know that there's no threat in that sentence. He's standing at the counter, quite a few snacks laid in front of him. "Take your pick." He motions to the food. "You can even take all of it if you want, we have loads more." Dad would be happy if I took it all, but there's like ten bags there.