gbf // muke

13

Michael's POV.

I waited for Luke at free period, but he never came. Maybe he did actually go home.

The bell rung, and I walked back to my locker.

"Michael?" I heard Ashton's voice.

"Yeah?" I asked and turned around. He looked nervous, maybe even looked like he had been crying. "Luke. He's in my car. Calum and I found him in the bathroom with nothing but a pair of jeans on. He was passed out on the ground." He said, and I shut my locker quickly. "Where's your car?" I asked nervously. He led me outside, and into the parking lot. I saw his black car, and I quickly opened the back door, to see Luke's head laying on Calum's lap. He was wearing a pair of sweats, and a t-shirt that was too big.

"Let's take him home." I whispered, getting in the back seat, letting his legs rest on mine. Ashton quickly got into the drivers seat, and pulled out of the parking lot.

"What do you think happened?" I asked quietly.

"He doesn't look like he was beaten up. I have no idea. Maybe he just fell and hit his head?" Calum questioned.

We turned Luke around, so his head was laying on my lap. I watched as the small boys chest rose up as he took a breath, and went back down as he let it out. I combed my fingers through his hair, and leaned down to kiss his forehead softly. I heard a soft cough come from him, and he began trying to sit up slowly. I helped him as he sat up between me and Calum. His eyes opened up, and he looked around a little, before leaning back on the seat.

"Luke, what happened?" I asked softly, and he laid his head on my shoulder. He stayed silent, and not one word came from his mouth. He didn't even open his mouth to try and say anything, he just sat back up, and looked straight ahead.

"I just fell and hit my head. I don't really remember what happened before that." He whispered, barely audible. I nodded, and he laid back down on my shoulder.

I know he was lying, there wasn't even a bruise on his head, but I don't wanna pressure him into anything if he doesn't wanna say it.

Once we got to his house, I walked him to the door.

"Your mums not home. Do you want me to stay?" I asked, and grabbed his hand before he walked in. He looked back, and shook his head, keeping his lips in a straight line. He shook his hand out of mine, and walked inside his house, shutting the door behind him.

I sighed, and turned from the door. I walked back to the car, and got in the backseat. "He's not okay." I whispered, and placed my hands over my face. I rubbed my eyes, and leaned back, just wandering what Luke was doing right now.

--

Luke's POV.

"If you say a word, you're dead!"

"Against the wall!

"Worthless!"

"You're such an ugly little slut!"

"I bet you actually like having six guys on you at once!"

I tugged on the ends of my hair as I rocked back in forth in the corner of my pink bedroom.

"I want to die." I cried, staring at the wall in front of me.

"Come help me Michael. Tell me I'm okay." I whispered to no one.

I crawled into the bathroom, and looked through the cabinets under the sink. I moved my makeup bags, and wipes, until I finally found what I was looking for. I opened the soap holder, and moved the old bar of soap out of the way, until I saw a never-used, silver blade.

They say it works.

I carved strait lines into my hips and thighs, wanting to hurt places that no one would ever see.

I leaned over the toilet, and shoved two fingers down my throat.

They say it works.

Once all the contents in my stomach were gone, I felt my stomach growling. I balled one of my hands into a fist, and covered my knuckles with my other hand. I pushed my fist into my stomach, fooling my stomach into thinking its full.

They say it works.

But I don't want to go just yet. I want Michael. I want Michael to hold me, and tell me I'm just sad, and I'll get over this. This stage of wanting to punish myself. The stage of wanting to die.

I want Michael to tell me he loves me.