La Douleur Exquise // Muke {Completed}

Tue Moi

Being friends with Luke wasn't easy. He was either around for days at a time, or seemingly disappeared from the edge of the earth itself, usually for weeks on end, no contact of any kind. No noises would come from his apartment, and no one would answer if Michael went down there.

The only time there was sound in these weeks of nothingness, was when the yelling would rise again, and as much as Michael strained to hear the voices words, he just couldn't. Michael knew it couldn't be good, but he also knew that he shouldn't interfere, not yet at least.

The worst part was that Luke would never tell Michael anything that had happened. No reason for the lengthy period of disappearance, or the bruises that scattered his back and reached his face. If Michael asked Luke would shut down, on Michael and the world for minutes or hours, and Michael was worried and frustrated and didn't know what to do.

Currently Luke was actually at Michael's apartment. He'd arrived shaking and close to tears and Michael had simply lead him in without a word and sat him down on the couch, whispering hopefully soothing words and rocking him back and forth in hopes to calm him down.

Not much later and Luke had fell asleep in Michael's lap, Michael running his fingers through Luke's hair, which was greasy from neglect and curling around the edges. Luke was undeniably beautiful, with sharp edges and soft features, collated together to make a sort of piece of art, but not the type to go in a gallery for everyone. It's the painting the artist likes the least, but everyone pours their heart out onto anyway.

Michael looked down at the boy who's head was resting in his lap, and eyes that we're screwed tight, breath hitching and proving the nightmare Michael assumed had been plaguing his once innocence dreams, and he only felt pity. Luke wouldn't like pity to be spent on him, but he couldn't help it. If people had the choice to feel what they felt, no one would choose sadness.

Luke gasped awake nearly as quickly as he had fallen asleep in the first place, and tears were already running down his cheeks and wracking his body and Michael felt such great sadness to the poor boy who curled in on himself whilst sobs course through him.

Michael brought Luke up to a sitting position, tugging him into a tight embrace of sorts, slightly awkward and uncomfortable, but anything to make Luke feel okay, anything better than what he was feeling right then. Anything would be enough for Michael. But maybe not for Luke.

Luke's sobs were diminished quickly though, and Michael decided to try again, to ask what was wrong, and how he could help and that all he wanted was for Luke to be happy. It was strange how strongly he felt these things, Michael couldn't remember the last time he had felt so strongly about anything before.

"Luke, what's wrong?" Michael asked when Luke's shaking had stopped and hiccups were few and far between and a peaceful calm had settled upon them, though it was still heavy and full of something else, a dangerous substance which Michael couldn't quite recognise.

Luke shook his head,"I can't, Michael, I can't," Luke chocked, shaking his head violently against Michael's chest, and Michael stroked patterns into Luke's back, in a hopefully comforting way. Luke leant into the fleeting touch, so it must be slightly calming, it must make him feel /soemthing/ better.

"Why not Luke?" Michael asked, his voice soft and gentle, as to not scare Luke into further mental reclusion, so he wouldn't start running further and further away from Michael, and closer to the depths of darkness Michael couldn't even begin to fathom.

Luke bit his lip, tracing random lines and shapes into Michael's arm that may only make sense to Luke, and he stared at one spot for a while, blinking back tears that glazed his eyes and his voice was so broken when he finally spoke,"He'll kill me," Luke whispered, so seriously, so bluntly and read, and it was all the sounds that pain and darkness brought.

"Who will kill you?" Michael asked, trying to not let his own voice fade or crumble. It was difficult when Luke was so raw and Michael had to stop himself from coming close to sounding that way as well.

Luke choked away another sob continuing to shake his head, and Michael thought that was the end of their conversation, and it would be enough for him, Luke reached out for a second, Michael was gaining his trust. If he wanted Luke to be okay, he needed to know what was happening to him in the first place, and he had taken his first baby step towards it.

But that wasn't the end, Luke hadn't finished, and he clung tightly to Michael's shirt as he choked out one name, the name that frightened Luke so much to get him to this point, where he was completely out of control and scared to where he feels he can't talk to people or have friends. To the point where he thought he'd be killed for simply uttering whatever was happening below Michael's floor.

"Calum."