"Oh, baby, senseless is a relative term."
⋆ in which a girl who ironically hates
change, meets a boy who ironically
endures pain to deal with a loss.
- angry!boxer!luke
highest rank: #655 in fan...
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Luke always looked beaten up. He always had light bruises littering his face, always varying the places they laid; sometimes they were on his cheeks, other times they rested just under his eye or across his eyebrow. His hands always looked the same way. They always had bruises and looked like they were bleeding more often then not; this only happened because they always had scabs on them and Luke would make a fist, ruining the healing process all over again. He had given up on trying to fix it, the boy choosing to just live with the pain rather than try to stop it. But this was all a choice he made; he chose to suffer through pain inflicted on him because when he got the chance to inflict it on his opponent all the anger he had built up felt numb.
It was an anger he had built up for years now, the boy himself constantly trying to find ways to push it down and drown it out; his only problem was it never worked. So he remained angry, mostly with himself, as he looked through the drawers in his bathroom for Band-Aids. All he had come up with were empty boxes and he mumbled into his hands as he threw the last box onto the counter. He sighed as he leaned over the counter for a moment, pushing himself away from it before he stepped back into his bedroom. Luke picked up a shirt off his bed, throwing it over his shoulders before he grabbed his keys and stepped out of his apartment.
He didn't walk far, the boy not feeling like walking in the cold air that dropped gentle leaves with it at the time. He merely stopped at a door that looked identical to his and hit his fist against it a few times. The loud music that had been seeping through the door and walls didn't stop as Luke did this, rather he heard a loud crash before he furrowed his eyebrows at the sound. He raised his hand again to knock, but instead the door opened and the person on the other side mumbled to themselves as they straightened out their shirt.
"Ouch—shit," she mumbled. The girl looked down at her knee which was scraped from the side table that she had run into. She took in a breath before she looked up at Luke, the boy being much taller than her. "Oh Jesus." She almost yelled, the cuts and bruises on the boy's face making her take a step back as she looked at him concerned. He gave her a glare at this the girl quickly giving him a confused look, "are you okay?"
"I'm fine," he mumbled. "Do you have any Band-Aids?" he asked. She gave him a suspicious look as he stood there, the girl pursing her lips as she leaned her head against the door to her apartment. Luke rolled his eyes at this, the girl seeming like she was getting amusement out of pushing his buttons; truthfully she wasn't. She merely got distracted easily, but Luke didn't know this. How was he supposed to? He sighed as she continued to look at him unsure, the music she still had playing behind her driving him crazy. "Do you need me to repeat my question?"
