La Douleur Exquise // Muke {Completed}

Moi

Tw- depression, suicide, panic attacks, self harm

Luke made sure to stay alone on his worst days. The days when he wanted to rip himself out of his skin and scream until his voice disappeared and his chest felt like it was going to burn out and die. Those were the days he wasn't in contact with anyone, those were the days Calum locked him in another room, completely devoid of any objects that could be used to kill himself until he finally calmed down.

If it took over a week, Calum would whisk Luke away, doctors forcing pills down his throat and telling Calum how he was a useless nutcase. Those were the days Luke was sure Calum must love him. He stuck around when professionals told him otherwise, for his own safety. Luke didn't want to hurt anyone but himself, he didn't want to depend on anyone other than Calum. He didn't want Calum's life to be destroyed like his.

So now Luke was trapped in what used to be a storage cupboard that turned into a safe room. It was too cramped. Luke was just about able to stand and the bumps in the hard wall dug into his back as he tugged on the skin around his throat and begged his nails to dig into his skin enough for him to bleed. He wanted to choke and die.

He felt himself suffocating as fear enclosed his body and the darkness of the room got too much, not a single shed of light making it through and the whole room was heavy in his throat, pressing against his chest until breathing was too difficult and his head hurt, pounding his skull until thoughts of dying left and the ones of wanting this migraine gone came, but in a way they were two of the same thing anyway.

Luke knew the best thing to do was pass out right there, let his body shut down and come back without the feeling of a perfect death where he could finally stop the suffering that took hold of him far too much, but there was always the evil voice that spoke about Luke's fears and doubts and played them so viciously that it kept his brain awake as well as his breath, that came too quickly and left his vision with blotches of blue and green, somehow visible in the pure darkness.

Luke passed out a little under three hours, his arms raw from his nails gliding over the skin in a constant rhythm, bright red and pulsing in pain, specks of blood staining his old clothes that didn't smell like him anymore, that didn't feel like home as they used to. Sleep brought safety from himself trying to peel himself out of his own skin, trying to lose his mind and every though in it, figuratively and literally.

-

By the time he was awake, the thoughts of only hours earlier had already disappeared. He couldn't remember the way he had felt when the warm light had been sucked out of his bones and forced away from him, or the true reason his body ached as he lay on top of the mattress and covers, fully clothed and covered in sweat that made his body stick together in the most irritating of fashions whilst he sat up and knew he'd gone insane again, that there was still no stopping the voices that plague his head and turned him wild.

Luke knew Calum hated seeing Luke like that, hated hearing his screams and the sight of Luke writhing around his own skin, he wanted him to stop, he threatened to leave if Luke didn't, and his heart was thumping when he couldn't see Calum anywhere, wondering if he would leave without a trace. He knew he was hard to be around, that he was a nutcase with suicidal tendencies, he couldn't take Calum leaving. Anyone else, but not Calum.

Luke couldn't count the amount of times his mind moved to this recessive place he hated to call home, but he could always remember the first time it shook his bones and constricted his lungs, his suicidal thoughts he never realised could ever be so strong taking over to the point he had a knife to his throat and Calum screaming at him to stop, both crying for different reasons, and Calum had been so shocked after that, the idea that he was about to loose Luke, and Calum wasn't going to be fucking useless.

Power flowed through his veins when he'd tackled Luke to the ground and threw the knife away, Luke's shaking hand hardly touching the plastic handle to the blade as it disappeared from his grip, and Calum screamed at him to never do that again, to never leave him, to never hurt him like that again. But Luke didn't have control over his mind like everyone else seemed to, the voices in his head screamed over Calum's, and it never stopped, someone was always yelling. The first time was hard, and Calum kept him safe, under lock and key, making sure his pulse was still going and that there was no possible way for him to leave Calum. Calum needed Luke to feel powerful, Luke needed Calum to stay alive.

Luke knew the one place the voices shrieking ended and a welcomed silence hit his head and he missed the quiet, he wanted it back. Michael brought true safety and warmth and love. Calum brought hurting and screams that Luke would never reply to because they mixed with the self loathing thoughts in his head to the point where he couldn't distinguish the two apart. Michael mixed with Luke to create beautiful colours Luke could all but imagine in his black and white vision, where specks of this perfect thing were only with Michael. He should be with him, but Calum threatened to kill any person who simply looked at Luke on the street when his possessive grip grew tighter and maybe Luke should've seen these dominating ways sooner.

But it was too late now, his whole world stuck revolving around Calum and Calum only. It was a scary thing to think, that at Luke's funeral the only person who wasn't Luke's family he'd lost touch of years ago would be Calum. Luke wondered if Calum would even go in the first place.

This is probably the darkest chapter I've ever written and honestly I don't want to write anything like that again, if that's alright. Only 2 chapters left now l8r sk8rs