A single bullet // M.C ✔️

39

"There we go, now no more ripping off the bandages, Nicky," Luke sternly spoke, tying the bandage tightly around my stomach. He had had to re-clean the raw skin, redoing a few of the stitches that had also split, that Michael never saw.

I had refused to look at the curly-haired man in front of me as soon as he stepped through the heavy front door, annoyed that he had also lied to me about my whereabouts. Michael's jumper was now abandoned in the chair; he had previously perched in it. The feeling of that fabric on my skin burning me. My legs were crisscrossed pulled onto the sofa cushions, and my hands were linked together, my right thumb rubbing over the palm of my left hand. A stare was aimed at the darn red roses, them not wavering from my sight.

Michael had left quite quickly after he uttered the words I was wearing his jumper. Luke came into the room twenty or so minutes later, muttering about how he was beating Ashton at some form of video game. I wasn't really listening.

"Did you know by any chance?" The first words finally left my lips to the male as he was packing up his first aid kit (a lot more in it than Michael owns).

"Did I know what?"

"Roses," the one word that sent his head down, making him have eye contact with the hardwood floor and his hands halt digging through the kit. He wasn't going to do anything anyway. I knew that. He just couldn't leave me alone. Not now Michael knows I told Alex some information about here. I know it's probably been sent to every fucking member of the gang to keep an eye on me from afar, making sure I got to see my family.

"We knew he was doing something like that but didn't know when or exactly what until the roses arrived at your door and Kensie took them in... she didn't even fully know what she had just done and was involved in until around day three, where he revealed his plan. Calum did what he had to do..." I hadn't asked about Calum, but it's as if he knew I needed to know how involved he also was in this.

A single nod was sent to Luke as I finally broke stare with the roses sighing.

"Can I stay at yours?" His ocean eyes looked at me in confusion, seemingly thinking I wanted to run far away from him, from this, and leave. I can't. Michael would probably find me one day, and I don't have it in me to leave Kensie.

"Erm, sure," he muttered, reaching a hand out to me to help me up, causing me to slap it away. I didn't need his help or pity. It took me a while, but I got myself up off the sofa and walked towards the door, slowly, but I made it, swinging the door open, gritting my teeth as the force made my stomach hurt again. He didn't deserve to help me, not after the hell he's put me through. "Open your door then," I snapped, needing to sit down.

It felt slower than what it actually was, feeling like he was moving at snail's pace to his door down the corridor and swinging the door open. No wonder I didn't question it being Luke's apartment; they are mirrored images, just with a few different touches.

Luke's place had photos of him and Kensie, and what seemed like young Luke and family photos. Little pops of blue were scattered around in forms of plush-looking pillows and blankets thrown over the arms of chairs and the back of the sofa. Matching his eye shade with a few pops of green, Kensie. A small smile appeared on my lips as I let the corner of my mouth turn upwards before falling back down. I was still pissed at him.

I practically collapsed into his sofa (itwas comfier than Michael's), pulling my legs onto the soft cushions, leaning my head back. The pain in my stomach subsided slightly.

"Here," his hand was in my face, holding two small white pills.

"Trying to drug me, Luke. Kensie won't like that," I scoffed, rolling my eyes.

"Painkillers." Was all he said, making me stop and take the pills, swallowing them dry, with a slight pain in my throat.

"Thanks," painfully left my mouth as I pushed his hand away from my face again, still not wanting to be near him, even if I am in his place of living.

"Why— why did you do it? Why did he do this?" His eyes closed before opening again, staring at me as if pondering the right way to say whatever it was he was going to tell me. Gently, he let his body fall into his own sofa, shifting his body to look towards me, arm scrawled over the back of the sofa.

"That's a question to ask him, Nicky," he corrected before I could go and quiz the other three members.

"Fuck," quiet words left our lips as we spoke silently. Rain was pelting on the windows again, giving me insane déjà vu, only with Luke this time and not Kensie. We fell into a silence that couldn't be described as comfortable, but it was awkward— it was just... okay. My mind was allowed to run wild as I thought over why there was a chance Michael was obsessed with me, but I couldn't think of a single thing but jealousy. I met Calum first by accident, then Luke, and even Ashton. He was last, and he seems the most obsessed with me. The other three tend to leave me on the sidelines and always had. Michael dragged me headfirst into this life, and I don't know if I'm entirely a fan of that.

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