La Douleur Exquise // Muke {Completed}

Amour

Luke woke up to gray. Gray walls and gray skies and gray heart. It wasn't complete darkness, it wasn't hopelessness and despair, it was a nothingness. It was the feeling not knowing yourself, and not being in touch with your own feelings. It wasn't all death and it wasn't all happiness, it was just a middle ground that Luke was always stuck in, never being able to get out.

That being said, there were times when he felt content with himself, when things softened around the edges and he didn't feel like death was the only option left for him. Those were his best days, he wasn't happy then, he just knew things could be alright perhaps. Those feelings don't last too long.

He felt tired, he was always tired. It was a draining feeling, like getting up and moving were impossible, his heart thumping with anxiety as to what the world had in store for him. His whole future was ahead, but he felt as if he'd wasted almost all of it already.

Calum wasn't around. He hadn't been there when Luke had crept into bed and gone to sleep, he hadn't been arrived when Luke had jolted awake at three am, like he always did without fail, and he wasn't there for Luke to wake up to. Luke never knew where Calum was, and he expected the worst, him cheating on Luke with multiple guys and girls alike, but he didn't question Calum on it. He didn't want to get hurt.

So instead, Luke traipsed out of bed, his whole stature slouched as he rubbed his eyes in any attempt to wake himself up. He hadn't showered in too long, hair and skin greasy, but he couldn't find himself able to force himself in. He felt so useless at the best of times and the silence that hurt his ears and the echo that surrounded the sparse apartment wasn't helping.

He forced himself to eat even when his stomach clenched and throat closed up at the thought of it. He had to keep healthy, he had to force himself to do stuff, even if his whole body and mind screamed against it. He needed to at least look happy when Calum came back, and that wouldn't happen if he was slowly starving and snapping at Calum because of that. Luke remembers the last time he got angry at Calum, just the thought of it brought back the feeling of tight grips on his wrists that left bruises and cuts that scarred over perfectly pale white skin.

So Luke forced himself under the stream of the shower that burnt his skin hot and made him feel even smaller compared to the universe than before, something he didn't consider possible until the fact that thousands of people could be doing the same thing as him and he didn't matter compared to them and he didn't matter to anybody.

Luke always tended to love too hard. His parents, who he'd always tried to make proud, they never keep in contact anymore, Luke hadn't seen them since Christmas two years ago. They stopped caring. His brothers, claimed would always protect their baby brother, disappeared with his parents. Family stopped mattering once you got old enough to look after yourself.

Calum, Luke had always loved Calum too hard. With the red passion of love and the blood that pounded in his veins and red was the feeling of butterflies in his stomach that made him so dizzy he felt sick. Loving Calum used to be all that, it was perfect, it was real, it was love.

That was until Luke had lost himself, and in turn so did Calum. So he decided he wanted to be powerful, he was grieving the loss of the old Luke and needed to not feel like it was all his fault, and somewhere along the line bereavement turned into an evil habit the Luke let happen because Luke loved Calum. The love turned blue, like vast, uncaring oceans or skies, like tears that never fell. It was blue, but still there, he could feel it. Luke knew he had to love Calum, there was nothing else if he didn't love Calum. Every memory, fond or not, ripped away from him. Luke couldn't do that to himself. He needed Calum and Calum needed him. It was toxic, it was wrong, it was love, at least to one half.

Calum stumbled into the apartment late evening, collapsing into Luke as if he had the right to do so. Luke held him up though, a frown etching his features at the sight of Calum drunk and pressed against him, and it was expected, it was always expected and Luke kept letting it happen to him as Calum slurred something Luke didn't listen to.

Calum gripped the collar of Luke's shirt way too tight as he tugged him too close and kissed him too fast, and Luke hated the way he tasted, like venom was being injected into his blood stream, the chemicals burning hot and fast and it churned Luke's stomach, but he didn't make Calum stop. He never had.

Calum leant back, looking Luke into the eyes, his own holding a wicked glint,"You're so perfect Luke," he whispered, stroking his hands through Luke's hair,"Never leaving me, always staying, so kind, so perfect," he added softly, and sometimes Calum grew tender, Luke tended to find that would happen just before he fell asleep with the alcohol still running in his veins.

And just as Luke was going to reply, he whipped backwards, and stumbled past Luke as if he wasn't even there, and that's how Luke felt most of the time, non existent, pointless. He didn't know why his heart still would beat fast for Calum, when he said the rare thing that made Luke glow. He wanted those feelings to end, but something still kept them there. It was a cage he couldn't escape, a prison that Calum guarded. Luke needed it to be over. He was the only one with enough power to do that in the end.

He wanted to be able to push through it all like Michael, be able to carry all that weight and still smile, still find innocence in love. Luke didn't know if he loved Michael or he was just desperately jealous of him for bullshit reasons. Either way, Luke wanted him. Or maybe just wanted to be him.

I just wrote the last chapter to this rip me and you l8r sk8rs