Double-Sided

0.0

The pavement was wet, covered with polluted rain and threatening to make him fall with every hesitant step he took. He swayed dangerously through the night, seeing every lamppost twice, every red light thrice and not seeing past the end of every street at all. His way home seemed longer than usually, maybe because with every two steps he took forward, he took one backwards, and he had gotten lost at least four times since he left the bar.

Luke was drunk.

It had been a while since he last thought it fitting to drown his sorrows, knowing how prone he is to addictions. His phone kept buzzing in his pocket and even though he refused to read any of the texts or pick up the calls, he knew it was the only thing keeping him awake. The fresh air was supposed to sober him up, but the gentle dripping of the rain and the wind that wrapped around him had a stronger effect on him than any of the shots. The biting cold urged him to close his eyes and stop.

So he did, for a second, or a few, the squalls doing nothing to stop his swaying. His numb fingertips were digging in his thighs and it all felt comforting, if not final.

“Sir, please, spare a penny.”

A shaking voice unwrapped him from his daydreams and Luke wanted to throw a fit and yell at whoever disturbed his long-needed peace, but he didn't. Luke never did. Instead, he slowly opened his eyes, scanning the street for any sign of life besides him and the cars that were speeding past him.

“I’m so cold, sir.”

The words were thrown into the night’s air with too much desperation and not enough hope. Luke followed them like breadcrumbs and landed upon a pair of chapped lips. There was a boy sitting against the wall of the back of a building. He was not curled up like Luke expected him to be in such cold weather and such thin clothes. He was on his knees, his head bowed and his hands folded in front of him.

“No,” he spat out, “you’ll only spend it on beer anyway.” His alcohol-induced bravery faded as soon as he actually said the words and the cold left them shaky and rushed. The boy shrugged, the gesture barely visible without a lamppost nearby. “Yeah, I am,” he said, all traces of submissiveness gone. He sat criss-cross and gave Luke a defiant stare. “It’s cold. I can’t feel anything.” Now it was Luke’s turn to shrug. “And how is that my problem?”

“Never said it was.”

Luke realised that this boy was drunk as well, albeit not as drunk as him. His fingers were shaking and it was not because of the cold. It was the adrenaline, rather than the alcohol, coursing through his veins.

“You’ve got some nerve, do you know that?”

Luke was over 6 feet tall, he walked with his shoulders hunched and said sorry more than any other word in his vocabulary. Luke was afraid of homeless people.

“I bet it’s your own goddamn fault you’re out here anyway.”

He felt so out of place tonight, as if he was captured in a bell jar. Someone was currently shaking it, messing up the scene until it was nothing like he was used to, until he was so dizzy he couldn't see straight. But he knew he couldn't blame anyone else tonight, for once in his life, he was at fault. His heart was beating loudly in his ribcage, the soundtrack to everything that had happened so far.

“Fuck off.”

The boy huffed, turning away from Luke. He was clearly done with the conversation now that he knew Luke won't give him any money. Luke wished he could make out his body language, but the lack of light left him in the dark. Without the aid of facial expressions he couldn’t tell of he was actually hurting this boy or not.

“Excuse me?”

For some reason, the boy’s attitude sent him over the edge, as if he was the one shaking everything up and sending make-believe snow down the sky, which was actually pathetic rain.

“I said, fuck off.”

Luke spat on him. He spat on him, because he was wearing a £60 coat and the keys to his apartment were jingling in his pocket, because he could.

The boy was weak. Luke doubted he could get up by himself. And so what if he did? What was he going to do? If Luke wenr to the cops, they’d arrest him without even asking questions. So he didn't say anything, just sat there, aware of the roles in this conversation.

Luke turned around, ready to leave his moment of bravery and all memory of this encounter behind.

“You don’t even know me.”

He rolled his eyes. The rain was still crashing down harshly and it was cold goddammit, this boy is annoying him. All he wanted to do was go home and sleep off the alcohol. Maybe call Michael, if he felt up for it.

“Is there that much to you then?”

“I don’t know, I think I can be quite nice sometimes.”

The boy’s voice was now no louder than a whisper and when Luke faced him, his shoulders were drooping. His words were accompanied by a shrug, inviting Luke to roll his eyes again.

“A week, I’ll give you a week,” he sighed. His coat weighed heavy on his shoulders, somehow making his eyelids even heavier. He was swaying on his feet, sick of getting tossed around by the wind. He longed for the warmth of his bed and the soft tap of his heating. He even missed the stains on his cheap, white duvets, but he was dreading every step it would take to reach his front door.

“What?”

Luke wanted to strangle this boy.

“You get a week’s time to prove to me that you’re not the scum I think you are.” Luke says, his tone menacing.

“Deal.”

“Alright, get up. We’re going home,” he said, already turning around to leave.

“What? I can’t go home with you. I don’t even know you,” the boy protested. He was sitting on his hands on knees now, startled by surprise. Luke thought about the rain drenching his pants and the gravel piercing his dirty skin. He just wanted to go home.

“I thought that was the whole point of this?” Every trace of hostility had left his voice. Now he just sounded tired. It felt like he was deflated. The snowflakes in his bell jar were done falling and now crunched under his feet, making him feel wrong, no matter what he did.

“I, I guess.” Luke glanced over his shoulder and spotted the boy pushing himself up. A muffled groan escaped his mouth when his leg gave out. “Are you sure about this?”

“If you say one more word I’m leaving you here,” Luke hissed. The rain had soaked his coat, the wetness making his shirt cling to his back. His glare was colder than the evening air surrounding both of them and sent a shiver down the boy’s spine.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming.”

Luke turned around, catching the boy gripping the holes in the wall to get up. A series of whimpers tumbled, just like him, on the floor, but Luke had his back turned to them, so he wsa not obliged to help. The boy struggled to get on his knees, his breathing ragged and violent.

“Are you done yet?” He frowned at the shivers that made his whole body tremble. They were caused by the few drops of rain that had dripped down his neck. They were gnawing at his patience, making it smaller one second at a time. “Just a few seconds more, please.”

Luke rolls his eyes.

He knew why he was walking this fast and it was not the rain, nor was it the cold or the fact he was tired. Luke thought it was kind of nice to be on this side for once.

a/n

new story :) pls let me know if you think it's worth continuing!