Colours {punk l.h. au}

33

MY HEART JUST STOPPED WHAT THE BIPPITY BOPPITY FUCK IS THAT LUCAS (back to rebecca's pov)

Listening to what Luke told me to do, I stayed in his room. I took it upon myself to use his shower and as I was undressing, I got a good look at the nasty bruise that fucktwit gave me earlier. Not only on one arm, but both.

It wasn't the most attractive thing on the planet, but it wasn't that bad. Luke had me thinking it was the biggest, baddest bruise and his initial reaction freaked me out.

I quickly showered and put the clothes I had on earlier back on minus the jacket. The bruises were exposed, but I was way too hot to wear a jacket or give a shit.

I switched on the tv and dove onto Luke's bed. Watching a movie should distract me from the horrible and anxiety provoking thoughts about Luke going to the police station doing only God knows what.

Deciding on Gone Girl, it was enticing, but I still couldn't get my mind off Luke. I felt incredibly bad that I might have worsened the situation. Not only was he pissed off about me talking to his drug squad, but it put him in danger.

Guess that leaves us tied.

About an hour or so later, I was struggling to keep my eyelids open. It wasn't even that late, maybe 9 pm, but I was beyond exhausted. Today had just kicked my ass, and I can only take so much.

The door opened, and I quickly shot up from Luke's twin bed and ran over. I saw Luke entering the room with his hood up and a cigarette hanging from his plump lips. I quickly attacked him with a rib crushing hug, and he embraced me back even tighter.

"What happened?" Was all I could think about to ask first.

I'm hoping for the best, but preparing for the worst.

He took the cigarette out from his mouth and held it in between his two fingers. He brushed past me and kicked off his black converse that matched his all black attire.

"I bailed Ashton out." He replied simply and walked over to the window. I watched him as he opened it up and lit his cigarette. It only reminded me that I needed one now. I ignored the vice and followed his footsteps, "Where is he?"

"At his girlfriend's." He answered shortly. Was it just me or was he being distant? I mean I understand if it finally sunk in that this was my fault, but at least talk to me so I know what the fuck is going on.

I watched in silence, slightly jealous of the way he was sucking down on the smoke like his life depended on it. He blew the smoke out the window and flicked off the ashes before reconnecting the stick with his lips. I watched until I couldn't take it anymore. I snatched the cigarette from his lips and took a drag.

He grabbed it from me and gave me a condescending look before putting the light out and tossing it outside, "I think we're in the clear now." He spoke up after a few seconds of not talking.

"What do you mean?"

"Charlie is in jail. As long as he stays there, you're safe." He stepped away from the window and walked away. I followed him, "Why don't you sound happy?" I asked the question that was eating at me for the past ten minutes.

"Don't worry about it. It'll be fine."

"Stop that, talk to me." I argued. There was no possible way I was letting him shut me out of this again. I nearly got killed from him trying to keep secrets.

"There's nothing to talk about, it's fixed." He said while starting to walk to the bathroom. Of course I followed. I grabbed his arm and turned him around, "Damn it, Luke. Don't be mad at me, please. I'm sorry."