therapy | luke hemmings a.u

:: Eighteen

:: E I G H T E E N ::

Luke covered his mouth with his palm, pressing it tightly against his teeth. He was pressing his hand so tightly against his open mouth that he tasted blood and, when he looked at his palm, he saw small cuts on his fingers.

He started muttering incoherently under his breath, a tremor in his hands. He looked from Ellie to his hands continuously as he kept on muttering.

"Luke," Dr. Claire said in a warning tone making him stop and take in a gulp of air as he tried to calm himself.

He then leaned against the wall, the coldness bringing him back to his senses. He ran a hand through his rough hair and then rubbed his face, letting out a long breath before looking at the doctor and giving her a slight nod.

"Are you sure?" She asked, concern written all over her face. Luke nodded once again before entering the room. He heard the clicking of the door but didn't look back.

He walked over to Ellie's bed and sat down on the white plastic chair next to it. He kept staring at his fidgeting hands on his lap, fighting for the courage to look at Ellie and it took him fifteen minutes to muster it up.

Looking around, he realized that Dr. Claire had left them alone which made him ease up. All that was there was the machine next to Ellie's bed that kept beeping, which, if it didn't mean anything positive, would've been annoying. He then leaned forward slightly and looked at Ellie's face.

Her head was wrapped in a bandage that was bloody like every other bandage that was wrapped on her body. Tears pricked Luke's eyes when he saw the cuts and bloody bruises on her arms that clashed harshly with her pale skin. There were tiny plastic tubes inserted into her veins and a ventilator was there to help her breathe.

Luke bit onto his bottom lip as he softly took Ellie's hand in his, tracing small patterns on the back of her hand which felt so cold and lifeless. He let out a choked sob and brought their intertwined hands to his lips before placing a soft, lingering kiss on her hand. Tears that were threatening to fall fell uncontrollably as he cried in pain, the pain in his heart that made him feel as if it was shriveling up. It made him want to tear it out of his chest and fling it away.

He cried and cried for what seemed like hours until he was tired and his half lidded eyes felt sore.

"People," he said with a shaky voice. "People are monsters. They just hide who they are behind the pretty masks they design for themselves. Trust me; I've seen the real people once their masks fall off," he spoke quietly. "And sometimes I - I think I am one of them." He sobbed. "I'm so sorry, El. This is all my fault."

And the tears started once again, rolling down his cheeks and causing the front of his t-shirt to dampen with tiny wet spots.

-

An hour later when Dr. Claire decided to check up on Luke, she saw him fast asleep. His head was resting on the bed as he leaned forward in the plastic chair, his hand still intertwined with Ellie's. Claire placed a hand on her heart, a small, sad smile forming on her lips as tears pooled in her eyes.

The scene in front of her reminded of the tragic accident her then boyfriend Mark had gotten into. Being a rebellious teenager, Mark was never one to listen to what anyone said and one fateful night he had gotten onto his trusted motorcycle and sped along the highway after an argument with Claire. An hour later Claire, who was expecting a call and an apology from Mark, got one from the police instead saying that he was found dead on the spot.

The heartbreak Luke was feeling was something Claire could relate to, which was why she was doing everything and anything she could to help bring Ellie back. She was determined to do so and wouldn't give up without a fight.