seventeen
It was pretty late, but I was never one to sleep.
Luke and I were sharing the kitchen table on the bus, both of us comfortably sat in the booth seats. He had his second glass of wine, coddling each sip every few minutes. My computer was sitting on the table between us as I flipped through email and email of things I needed to get down.
"Do you not sleep?" Luke asked, his voice hoarse.
"Hm?" I questioned, not really listening to him.
He closed the lid of my laptop just enough until I could see him. "Do you, just, not sleep?" He asked again, obviously not letting it go. Luke didn't let anything go. He didn't take no as an answer, ever.
I shrugged, "There are 24 hours in the day and I don't want to spend half of them sleeping."
Luke tilted his head back, getting the last of his red wine. He placed the empty glass cup on the table before responding. "So, you're just always awake? You were awake when I was lonely, you're awake now, you're always awake. I've never seen you sleep."
I furrowed my eyebrows together, "Do you have a weird kink I should know about? Like, do you enjoy watching people sleep?"
Luke rolled his eyes. "You're bothering me now."
I closed my laptop fully, giving him all the attention my 5'11 body could possibly provide him. "Well, you're always awake. Why's that?"
He copied my motion with a shrug. He leant back against the pillows laid neatly on the bench. Luke closed his eyes and brought his hand to his head, "I had lots of sleeping problems as a kid and I guess I never grew out of them."
"Have you tried going to a doctor or anything?"
"Fuck that," he said, a laugh escaping his lips, "I don't care enough."
I rested my elbow on the table, my head falling into my cupped hand. I looked over at him, he looked miserable. I don't know how else to describe him. He was playing with his phone, spinning the electronic rectangle around the smooth tabletop. His eyes were low and dark, the bags underneath seemed to be growing every day.
"Are you happy?"
"Yeah," he responded without thought.
"I mean, like, really happy." I held up my hand as he began to respond once more, "Think and then give me an answer."
Luke sat up properly, his lean figure leaning over the table as he looked down at my hands. He was thinking, I could almost physically see his brain processing my request. His bare feet was tapping on the ground, every up kicking my shin.
"I'm content," he said, "I'm content with my place on this planet."
"Is that what you want to be? Content?"
His eyes were wandering around the space between us, "I guess I could get happy."
"What could make you happy? Your answer can't be weed."
Luke gave me a side smile, his professionally whitened teeth gleaming in the fluorescent light above us. His face fell once more as he got back into his own head. "I don't know, some personal stuff."
"Why don't you talk about your family?" I was in his head, I knew it. I got into his head and I wasn't ready to pull back.
He pulled back, though. He stood up, with a quick, "I'm going to bed."
Why do you think Michael wants to get into Luke's head so badly?
Why won't Luke let him in? What's he hiding?
