twelve
Luke has never been the one for talking about his feelings, so he doesn't. A week passes and nothing has changed. Luke still tries to sass Michael, only for Michael to shoot a better comeback without a stutter.
It was Friday night again and Luke had his nieces over. A five-year-old with brown, curly hair whom would gladly talk about horses all night, and a seven-year-old with blonde, curly hair whom's energy gives Luke a headache.
He'd do anything for his two older brothers, though. If they needed a night off, Luke would gladly come to the rescue for a few hours.
"Do you have crayons?" Lou asked, her fingers tight in her blonde pony tail.
"I doubt it," Luke responded. He stood up from his slouched position on his couch, the crack his knees emitted making the two girls squeal. He wandered towards the kitchen, going through his desk. "I've got Sharpies and blue pens."
"That's not fun," the eldest pouted, taking a seat on the couch. "Mom always encourages us to be creative, why don't you?"
"I don't have kids, Lou, I don't know how to do this." He sat back down, wrapping his arm around the younger girl and pulling her to his lap.
"Can you get something to draw with?"
"I offered you blue pens."
She shook her head. "That's terrible, Uncle Luke."
Luke sighed, coming up with an idea. "Fine, let me see if someone can bring them over, alright?" He wiggled his phone out from the pockets of his jeans, trying not to drop Lucille. "Do you want crayons or markers or what?"
Lou tapped her curved chin, "Crayons." Her waited response playing with Luke's patience.
He slid open to his lock screen, pulling up his messages. He texted three people in the last twenty-four hours. His mother, Ashton, and Michael.
His mother is across the country, so she's no help. Ashton is most likely watching House with his dogs, so he's no help. Michael is a hit-or-miss. Michael is either going to be laying around the house trying to find an excuse to leave the house, or doing things Luke doesn't want to think about.
To / Michael
Are you willing to bring over crayons?
Luke turned up the television in front of them, trying to distract them in case no one was willing to bring them crayons. Worse case scenario would always be getting the two girls dressed and to the 24-hour-everything store down the street.
It was cold, though, and Luke feared losing them.
From / Michael
Yeah, I still have a bunch from my little brother. I'll be over soon, need anything else?
Luke smiled to himself, "Girls, my coworker is bringing over crayons. Make sure to thank him."
"We know manners, Luke." The elder sister curled into Luke's side, stealing the blanket he and Lucille was sharing.
To / Michael
I think I'm good. I'll bribe you with wine.
Luke cuddled with his nieces for a bit longer. Some movie playing on the screen in front of them. He wasn't sure what they were or were not allowed to watch, so he let the girls chose and hope for the best.
He doesn't know how strict his siblings are when it comes to parenting.
Michael took the nine o'clock subway, arriving at Luke's apartment complex a few minutes later.
Luke lived in the wealthy part of their city. His complex had a doorman and gold encrusted door handles. He was on the third floor, only a few rooms on each floor. His bedroom alone was the size of half of Michael's apartment.
Michael didn't mind, he liked his apartment. His apartment was simply nothing compared to Luke's.
Mike stood outside his front door, gripping the two bags of crayons before knocking on it. Luke always hosts the holiday party so Michael knows his apartment pretty well.
Luke got up, not letting the girls answer the door in case it was a murderer or something. His eldest brother didn't talk to Luke for a week after Lou once came home with a bruise on her hip from playing tag and slipping on polished hardwood floors.
He looked through the peephole, seeing Michael looking down on his feet.
Michael was in sweats and a baggy sweatshirt. He looked a little bit homeless and Luke wasn't sure if his doorman gave him any trouble. Michael held up to plastic bags filled to the top with many assorted crayons. "I've been waiting to bring these babies out for ten years."
Luke laughed and let him in. "Well, we're very thankful." He locked his front door behind Michael, leading him to the living room. "That's Lou," he said, pointing to the eldest blonde, "And the little one is Lucille."
"So many L's," he said, plopping on the ground. He knew Luke kept paper underneath the television as he opened a few drawers and plopped it down.
The girls crawled from the couch, circling Michael as he dumped the crayons on Luke's very expensive rug.
There wasn't time to introduce Michael as the girls already began swarming him and grabbing all the crayons they could, excited to begin drawing.
Mike scooted back, giving them space. He looked up at Luke who was now sitting up on the couch. They made eye contact, small smiles crawling up their lips. Mike looked back down, laying down on his stomach to start his own drawing.
Luke watching his two nieces tell Michael details on their drawings, both of them interrupting each other to speak to Michael first.
"Why does it have sunglasses on?" Michael asked, pointing to Lou's drawing of the sun. "The sun is literally the brightest thing, it doesn't need glasses."
"It wants to look cool," she said in a duh tone.
"Ah," Michael responded, nodding his head, "I feel that."
Mike can remember doing this exact thing with his little brother many years ago. He loved those years, he loved acting like a kid again and playing hide-and-go-seek and coloring and simply enjoying life. Kids enjoy life, Michael can physically feel the happiness Luke's nieces give off.
They were put to bed a little before ten, both of them upset they couldn't spend more time with Michael.
Luke got Mike his promised glass of wine, both of them falling asleep on the living room couch watching a murder show at low volume. This was the way Luke wanted to spend every Friday night.
