Shattered // MUKE

0.1

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It was a quiet night on the streets, to say the least.

Lighting a cigarette, Michael took a long drag, loving the feeling of the smoke being trapped in his lungs, slowly killing him with every breath. He could control this type of pain, he could cause it whenever he wanted to.

Michael had walked for about 2 hours from his parents house, smoking around 3 cigarettes and putting them out on his wrist, loving the sting and burn as his once soft, and pale skin turned rough and dark.

Finishing off his bottle of whatever-the-fuck-could-get-him-drunk-fastest, Michael tugged at his sleeves in effort to try to keep him warm.

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The next morning, Michael awoke with a huge headache, wrapped in a fluffy white duvet in someone's large bed.

He sat up and looking down seeing a large, blonde boy snoring softly on the floor covered only in a thin blanket, head on a show-pillow.

Michael rubbed his eyes, getting up and walking around the house trying to find a bathroom, or you know, a fucking door. Everything started to spin; the only thing in his stomach alcohol and a few crackers from last week. Upon opening the 3rd door, there was a bathroom.

Just in time.

Michael's stomach contracted, throwing up the contents of his stomach into the white porcelain toilet. He sighed, resting his face on the seat, shutting his eyes to try to ease the endless pounding in his head.

After about 7 or 8 times of puking and flushing, he actually began to think of where he was. He thought that he was at some perverts house, who fucked him while he was passed out from the $8 cheap liquor he downed not too long ago.

He was halfway puking, once again, he felt a hand on his back. Without thinking, his fist met the blonde boys stomach, a loud grunt coming from his mouth. Michael looked up at the boy whose face contorted in confusion and pain. 

Why didn't he hit back?

"Woah." The blonde boy replied, still holding his stomach, bending to kneel down, "Are you alright? I didn't mean to startle you." he sat next to Michael, and went to put his hand on his back to comfort him again but he flinched away from his hand.

Eventually, his hand was rubbing Michael's back as he helplessly continued to throw up. The comforting hand, running up and down his back, bringing about so many emotions he pushed into the back of his mind. He couldn't stop letting the thoughts caress every inch of his being, tears falling down his suddenly red cheeks as he got ready to throw up one last time.

"Why are you crying? Are you in pain? Are you okay?" The blonde boy's hand stopped rubbing his back but landed on his shoulder, Michael flinching away once more.

"My eyes are watering. Why the fuck do you care so much? Who are you?" He replied, swatting his hand off his shoulder, attitude sharpening.

"I'll go make something for you to eat, you have to be hungry. I'm Luke, and i found you on a sidewalk like, 3 days ago" he continued, standing up and offering a hand to help him up "So i brought you here so you wouldn't die, in fact i only knew you weren't dead because you snore a little. in a cute way. well not cute b-but".

Michael refused the hand and got up by himself, feeling shittier. He hoped the blonde boy, well, Luke,  hadn't noticed his sleeves were rolled up, and rolled them down while following him.
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GUYS. NEW PLOT PART 2!! xx