Jet Black Heart - muke - COMPLETED

-three-

"I write with a poison pen"

Luke sighed as his phone rang the next evening.
He placed down the pen he had been writing with.

"Michael babe are you alright?"

"No." He sniffled.

"Okay I'm coming." Luke replied and ended the call.

He folded the paper and put it in his back pocket. He would finish it later.

When he got to Michaels bedroom he was nowhere to be found.
"Mikey?" He called out.

He heard a whimper from the en suite and raised an eyebrow, walking over to it.

He pushed the door open a little.

"Mikey are you oka- oh my god!" He yelled as he took in the scene.

Michael was sat on the floor with blood leaking from his wrist.
His face was pale and he seemed to be in a state of shock.

"Michael talk to me," Luke knelt down in front of him.

He watched Michaels eyes flicker up to his for a second.
"Babe," Luke croaked. "Why did you do this?"

Michael started to cry though he didn't make any noise.
"Shh, it's alright, calm down."

"I-I can't." Michael squeaked, every time he looked down at his wrist he started to panic more so he hadn't looked at it in 10 minutes. By now it was worse than before.

Luke's eyes were teary as he mopped up the blood on the floor and from michael. He wrapped his wrist in bandages and kissed his hand slowly. He knew this was his fault.

With shaky hands he picked up the blade, throwing it out the window aggressively.

He looked down at Michael who stared at him with glassy eyes.

"Come on," Luke said in a hushed tone as he picked Michael up.
He took him to the bed and slowly lifted his shirt off him.

Michael tried to push him away.
"What's wrong?" Luke frowned.

"Y-you're angry with me," Michael started to cry again.

Luke felt a pain in his chest.
"Shh." Was all he could say as he removed Michaels shirt.

He went to the wardrobe and fetched what was Michaels favourite jumper and walked back over, placing it over his head.

He slid Michaels jeans down his legs and slid his leggings up them instead.

"Comfy?" Luke Asked quietly.
Michael nodded.

He pulled the covers over michael and lay on top of them next to him.

"It h-hurts." He sniffled.
"I know baby just try to sleep okay?" Luke whispered.

"Why did you do this?" Luke asked a while later.

"I don't know." Michael croaked. "Y-you don't want me."

Luke blinked back tears. "That's not true."

"W-what, you do?" Michael asked with a small hopeful voice.

"I... I don't know."

Michael slumped back into the pillows with a shaky sigh. "Okay."

"Mich-"

"It's fine." Michael tried to not sound like he was crying. "You can go now."

"Are you not gonna ask me to stay?" Luke asked.

"I know you won't." Michael sniffled, rolling over so Luke couldn't see him anymore.

"O-okay." Luke gulped. "Bye."

Michael didn't reply.
Luke switched off the light on his way out and exited the house without a word to Michaels mother.

He sat at his desk and cried as he finished the letter he should have written ages ago.