Lacuna (Muke)

0.0

Michael bolted awake. Tears rolling down his cheeks as he glanced around him. Luke still wasn't there. It's been this way for awhile now. Luke would be home for a couple days, then he'd leave. Michael and Luke weren't anything special. "Just friends." Nothing more. Nothing less. But it didn't mean they couldn't care about each other, did it? Calum and Ashton care about all the boys. So shouldn't they care for each other? You see, it seemed as if Luke didn't care about any of the boys lately. Whenever any of the boys would try to talk to him, he'd roll his eyes and walk away as if they're nothing.

They didn't know what was going on with him. Whenever he would return from leaving, he would smell like alcohol and cigarettes.

It pained Michael to see Luke so hurt. It really did.

The one question that always ran through Michael's head was "how can someone so perfect, be so sad?"

Michael sniffled, tears falling as he stood up slowly. He grabbed his blanket wrapping it around his body and slowly walked out of his room. The house was silent, as it was 1 in the morning. Michael walked to the kitchen, getting a glass of water.

He heard a quiet shuffling noise behind him, but ignored it knowing it was Either Cal or Ash getting food.

But what happened next, was unexpected.

He felt a body being pressed against his back, placing a hand on his mouth. "Don't scream." he whispered, his voice was raspy and had the smell of alcohol and cigarettes on it.

Michael exhaled a slow shaky breath and nodded.

The man took his hand away from Michael's mouth and whispered in his ear "I've missed you, Mikey."

Michael's eyes began to well with tears as he soon realized who it was. "I've missed you, too, Luke." He whispered back, spinning himself around. Their bodies were impossibly close, their mouths just barely touching.

"Luke..? Mikey..?" Luke's eyes widen as he grabbed Michael, pinning him against the opposite wall of the voice.

"It's just me," Luke smirked, kissing down Michael's jaw. "L-luke isn't.." He bit his lip holding back a moan as Luke began to rub his knee against him. "Home yet." He let a quiet moan slip making Luke bit down on his skin leaving a visible mark.

"Oh.. Okay.." The voice sounded disappointed. "I'm going back to bed then, night Mikey."

"Night."

Luke released Michael's skin, smirking at him.

"Why do you always do that to me?!" He whisper/shouted.

Luke shrugged. "Why not."

Michael rubbed his eyes. "You can't just.. Leave for a couple days then come back and tell me you have missed me. You treat me like crap when the boys are around, you treat all of us like crap.. Why? I don't get it, one minute it's like.."

"Like what Michael?" Luke's voice sounded harsh as he stepped away from him.

"One minute it's like you love me and the next it's like I'm nothing to you." he whispered.

"Well maybe you are nothing to me.. Ever think of that?"

Michael's eyes widened, tears filling them. "You.. You didn't mean t-that.."

Luke rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever. Goodbye Michael." Luke walked away, leaving Michael in silence, tears falling as he slapped a hand on his mouth to stop himself from crying too loudly.

Luke meant it.

He meant nothing To Luke.

They have two different mind sets. Luke likes drinking partying and sex. Where as Michael likes reading, movies and cuddles.

Michael hated it.
He hated how much he loves Luke
He hated that Luke leads him on.
He just hated It.

Nothing, not one word could describe what he felt. Not. A. Single. Thing.

    ******T R I G G E R  W A R N I N G******

He ran to his bedroom, tears falling as he shut the door and locked it, quickly scanning the room for things to destroy.
He rubbed his temple, he has never felt like this before. He wanted to throw everything around, shred every single paper. He wanted to scream until his lungs collapsed. He wanted to cry until his lashes couldn't stay dry. He wanted destruction. He ran to the bathroom in his room, searching through the cabinets to find something, anything to cure his headache. His hand bumped a old razor making it fall out and onto the sink, he stared at it for a few seconds before picking it up and smashing it against the counter. The blades fell onto the floor. He kneeled down, slowly and carefully picking up a piece, he stared at his wrist then looked back at the blade.

He slide it against his wrist, hissing at the feeling. He sat down, continuing to drag the blade against his skin as thoughts surfaced his poor, suffering mind. He counted every cut he made. Each cut holding a different story. Even though his wrist was full of cuts, no skin visible, he still continued to drag the blade against his skin, the tears in longer falling.
The one thing that bothered Michael is that, everything was fine until they kissed a couple months ago.
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A/n: Yeah. That was that! Errr.. Like.. It's not the best.. And I'm sorry for this ^^ but it's part of my story! I always try to make sure I have a trigger warning.. So yeah! Don't forget to comment and vote!