Figure you out

. 4 .

Lucy woke up to a soft, warm, yet painful touch on her arm. On the cuts. She jumped up and slapped away the hand that had invaded her privacy.

She looked down into Luke's distraught eyes. It was the first time they'd held such horrible pain, or at least that she had seen. She didn't know just how many times they had held that pain. Too many to count.

Luke's thoughts consumed him and he didn't react to the girls stare, nor her words when she softly called his name.

Had this beautiful, kind, intriguing girl, who was supposed to be, he thought, completely and utterly conceited, really cared about his actions, and him? Enough to dwell on him? Enough to not give up, even after he had hurt her? How could she? How was it possible? It wasn't. He hadn't been loved in his whole life, and there was reason for it. No one could love him. No one could care about him, especially not enough to hurt themselves because of him. Not at all. It was impossible.

Yet still, Lucy held concern, worry, and possibly even love, in her eyes as she stared into Luke's beautiful bright blue ones, that were now wrapped in guilt.

"Luke?" She called his name once more, but her words became lost in the thick, tense air, and in Luke's depressed thoughts.

"Don't think it's your fault." She mumbled. "Please."

Her words immediately snapped Luke back to reality.

"Of course it's my fault. I was an ass to you, and made you feel like I didn't care about you, and you hurt yourself. If I'd been better, if you'd stayed, this might now have happened." He replied, his voice broken and sad. Of course he didn't think it was all him, but he felt like a contributing factor. He knew it had been happening for some time due to the scar tissue, and being assaulted and nearly raped was clearly a factor, but he imagined her thinking of the pain he cause as she traced over lines with a blade and he couldn't stand it.

"No Luke. I cut myself. I held the blade. All you did was... Well... Nothing, really. It was my fault. Don't blame yourself." Lucy looks down, she'd never liked talking about her weaknesses, especially not to people she cared about so much.

"Don't bullshit me." It was his fault, and he couldn't stand it.

"It's not! Luke, don't blame yourself! I care about you too much to let you blame yourself because I'm depressed, and sad, and broken! It's not your fault! I care about you Luke! I care about you and when I felt like you didn't care about me, it hurt. Yeah, I was sad. Yeah, it was about you. But it wasn't your fault." Lucy tries to convince, tries to make him understand, and hear her.

"You don't-"

"I swear to god Luke, if you tell me that I don't care about you."

Luke sighed and remained silent. Of course, that was exactly what he was going to say, because he knew it was true. He knew, because if it wasn't, if she really did care, he knew he would fall in love with her.

"You shouldn't. You... You don't." Lucy wanted to scream at his words. She wanted to hit him and kiss him and make him realize how much she really did.

"You have no right to tell me who I do and don't care about! Why are you so stubborn?! Why can't you just see that I care about you so much!? You saved the last shred of dignity, of self respect, of innocence, I have left! And you really think I'm so conceited that I'm not grateful?! You really think that that doesn't make me willing care for you?! What would have to be wrong with me if I didn't fall in love with you, at least a little bit?!  Why can't you just see it?! It's right in front of your face!" She didn't know what would make him see, she didn't understand why he couldn't see.