blondie [muke af]

thirty nine

thirty nine

ONE YEAR LATER

Luke stood tall in the dirty mirror as he buttoned the last button of his black top. His eyes were puffy at the thought of the next hour. He wasn't able to attend Cy's funeral, he couldn't stop crying. How was he supposed to look at the grave knowing the boy with dark brown eyes was buried only six feet below?

The blonde could hear Calum and Ella waking up in their own room, a groan leaving Cal's lips as he stretched out his back. Luke felt himself suddenly sadden. It's been one year since he's touched Michael, one year since he's seen the man.

He's not alone, he has his little girl. Darcy Hemmings was the sunshine of his world, even at only seven months old. She had pale skin and green eyes. Her nose was round but sloped at the end. She was always smiling, always laughing.

Luke got full custody in court, Michael didn't argue as he felt like he failed. He couldn't keep his own brother alive, he didn't trust himself to keep his baby girl alive either. Luke still remembers looking at the boy with blonde roots sticking up, the ends a faded grey black. He was a mess, his hair pointing in different directions and shirt with odd stains. He was crying, his eyes red, his shoulders shaking. He was alone.

Luke pulled at the tips of his hair, making sure it stuck up the right way. He was in the middle of putting on his lilac lipstick when small whimpers came from his bedroom. He sighed, putting the tube down and leaving the room.

Darcy was red, tears falling from her eyes as if she, too, knew today wasn't going to be a good day. Dirty blonde hair was peaking up from her scalp as her little hands brushed over it.
Luke smiled, loving his daughter with such a strong passion.

He scooped her up in his hands, cradling her fragile body. "Hi, Baby," he whispered. He rocked her back and forth as he made his way back across the hall and to the bathroom. Her carrier was on the counter as this was their typical morning routing—Baby would cry, Luke would pick her up and take her in here, he'd finish getting dressed.

He placed her down on the silk sheets (she was his princess, she needed the best, even if she stains them at least twice a month).

Luke finished making his lipstick color and eyebrow arch sharper than his jawline. He really didn't feel ready to do this. He didn't want to admit that Cy was dead. He didn't deserve to be dead, he could've had a future.

Luke wished he stayed home, then the teenager wouldn't have ended with a rope around his neck.

Ella knocked on the closed door, already peaking her head in without any confirmation. Luke often wonders how she feels, she saw the boy. El walked upstairs when Cy didn't respond that evening three hundred and sixty five days ago. She knew he did it before she even opened the door. She called Calum in tears, making him walk in first. "Hi, Queen," she said, a smile on her face.

"Good morning."

"Are you going to work today?" She asked, stepping in to the cold room. Ella placed her skinny arms around Luke's waist, squeezing him from behind.

Luke quickly quit his job after everything fell apart. Kate Spade accepted his interview, hiring him on the spot in their PR firm. Luke was somewhat happy with that job, he did get a damn good discount. "No, I think I'm gonna see Cy today."

Ella nodded, knowing it was time. "Cal and I don't work until nine today, do you want us to come?"

Luke shook his head, he didn't want the couple to see him cry more than they already have. "Thank you for everything you've done, El."