try hard // luke hemmings

Chapter Two

I seem to have to do a lot of Luke's work when in the library. It applies when Mrs. Luebke isn't here. I'm the one re-shelving, the one cutting and stapling papers. If I don't do it, or make it obvious that I'm doing Luke's job, he's quick to grab me harshly or nick me a little, enough to cause bruises.

It's all enough to make my nights at home even more painful. Like, this past week, I wasn't an escort. I was just at home, but for whatever I did wrong and 'fucked up' I was hit. Thrown across the room, shoved the down stairs. Anything to cause me pain.

I was back to wearing my long sleeves in the dead of summer.

I didn't expect anyone to notice, I mean it was my normal attire. One person, one person who I least expected, noticed.

I was stacking up the teacher's copies of the master schedules for this year when I was ripped away from my work and thrown into the dark storage room. I stagger back into a chair and hit my lower back; that was going to bruise.

I hear the door close shut and the light blinds me as it it is turned on. Luke towers over my crouched body on the floor.

"What are you hiding?" He growls. I look up at him in terror. "What?" I squeak. He yanks me up by my bruised arm. Let's not forget my self-harm scars. I grimace and he notices. "Cheyanne. What are you hiding?" Luke spits.

I try very hard not to cry in front of a complete stranger. "Nothing." I mumble. His fingers slowly slip under the sleeve. "No." I whimper. Luke's cold hand races up my arm, making the purple sleeve shoot upwards. His eyes grow to the size of saucers as he looks at the various bruises and cuts going up my arm.

The next thing he does surprises me even more. He leans down and kisses each and everyone of the cuts. Each and everyone of the bruises. When he's done with my left arm, he starts on the right. I stand there, silently crying and wondering why this had to happen to me. I don't need anyone's help. I didn't want anyone's help and here I was, getting it.

"Luke," I finally cry. "Stop."

He continues the sweet kisses up my arms. "Where? Anywhere else?" He whispers against my skin. I slowly walk out of his grasp, pulling my sleeves down. I turn away. Why? Why did Luke have to be the notice? Why did 5SOS come to my school?

"Listen. Cheyanne." He walked forwards again, cornering me. He looked mean again. Guarded. "I know what you're going through. My friend... Actually, I don't, but I know that these," he points to my scars, his fingers brushing my arm. "They aren't worth it."

Luke steps even closer than before.

"But Cheyanne Levine. If you tell anyone, and I mean anyone, about what just happened in here, you'll have more than just scars." He warns. For some reason, I get angry at this. But why wouldn't I? He was threatening me!

"Who am I gonna tell? I don't talk anyone, haven't you noticed that?" I say.

Luke soon gets defensive as well. "No, I haven't noticed that. Foolish American." He mutters. I feel my eyes swell with tears.

Before I can say anything more, the door's opened. "What's going on in here? Get back to work, kiddos." Mrs. Luebke says.

I duck under Luke and exit the room. He follows closely behind me and he whispers in my ear. "It's not over."

I shudder at the thought of what that could possibly mean.

I do my work the rest of the period and when the bell rings, make a mad dash for my locker. I was going to see him again, why was I running?

I get my stuff from my locker and am just about to turn and head to my next class when I am body slammed into the locker rows behind me. The cold lock pokes my back. I look up into Luke's eyes.

"Did I tell you you could leave?" He asks. I don't answer and he rocks his body against mine, pressing me harder against the cold metal doors. "No."

Luke smirks. "Thought so."

"W-what do you want?" I stutter, not looking him in the eyes. His rough and calloused fingers capture my chin and he forces me to look at him. "I'm not sure yet," he whispers huskily, leaning towards my face. Unluckily, this area of the school was deserted. I don't know what to do.

I force my eyes away from his strong gaze. "No." I whisper. He slams his free fist into the locker behind me. "Yes." Luke's hand still held my chin. His eyes soften and I was confused. "Why? Why do you hurt yourself?" He murmurs.

I'm caught of guard. "Be-because. No one wants me, Luke." I find myself saying. Luke shakes his head. "No, no, no. I want you." He whispers. "Luke, if you knew what I do, what I'm forced to do, you wouldn't want me."

Luke lets go of my chin, and cages me in that tight space between him and the lockers.

"That's the thing. I'm going to find out why no one talks to you. Why you don't talk to me. Even if it's the last thing I do. And listen here, Cheyanne. I will make you want me. Whether you like it or not."

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edited.
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