Virulent | L.H

tears on the stage

Luke's POV:

Have you ever been inlove?

If you have, doesn't it scare the hell out of you?

Or am I just weird?

Well, that is how I feel about Alex. I fell for her before I even knew her name. Her eyes, her lips, the way her brown hair fell perfectly smooth and flowy, and especially her confidence. It radiated. Every moment spent with her I fell more and more. I wanted to protect her from everyone and everything.

Soon I realized, she was the one protecting me.

I'm terrified of how much control she has over me, she doesn't even realize it either. I'd do anything she asked, of course I try to put up a front. These days it's more often that not though.

I lay awake at night thinking about the many ways I could potentially hurt her and how I am not good for her. It is overwhelming. She doesn't like to admit it but I know how fragile she really is. I know how to get to her in just the right ways. I don't like it, I don't like knowing how to break her.

The side of me that does like it is what scares me.

I don't deserve her. She is perfect and I am just me. I have never been good enough for her.

I finally check back into reality and look at her.

She looks alot different from when I first met her, but also the same. Her hair is an electric blue, a little longer, still so soft and flowy. An eyebrow piercing that I told her I liked but didn't really like, a small ring on her left nostril, she said it was her "good side" as if she isn't effortlessly beautiful everywhere. Then finally the newest edition of nipple piercings that are always visible from her tank tops. Her prominent tattoos look as if they were made for her. Butterfly wings on her back, a skeleton on her forearm, the delicate flowers just below her collarbones, and the faded L she got on her ring finger when we were 16.

I wanted to get an A on mine but she refused to let me. "Your mom likes me and I don't want that to change" she said in her stern tone, I love it.

She still has little freckles that scatter across her nose and pale, flushed cheeks. The same blueish greenish eyes that hold all of her emotion. The same subtle dimples placed on each side of her big glimmering smile. The same contagious messy, wheezy laugh that she hates but everyone, especially me, adores. She still sits on the floor "criss cross applesauce" hunched over her notebook scrawling down whatever thoughts she's having.

"Why are you staring at me? You look like an idiot." She says giggling

Shit was it really that obvious.

"Sorry, sorry."

"Okay, well I asked you a question."

"Y-yeah? What's up?"

How does she still make me feel so nervous.

"How does this sound? 'Throwing rocks at my broken window, only you can cure my sickness, once I got a little taste now I'm addicted to your fix'"

"I think that sounds good, yeah."

"K thanks babe."

Jesus, I really love her. I don't tell her nearly as much as I should though.

I smile as I remember the lyric she said to me. I always threw rocks at her window when we were younger. She lived in this shitty trailer so I really could have just went up to her window and knocked on it, but the rocks are way more romantic. I still do it sometimes when she is mad and locks me out of our room. Some things never change, do they?