Luke Hemmings Secret Brother

chapter eighteen

I fell asleep feeling empty and tired, I woke up feeling exactly the same.

I threw on a new pair of boxers and a hoodie, ordering room service before I sat out on the balcony. I was kind of cold, but I didn't care.

My jaw ached. The bruise I was sporting was not pretty, a purple and red hue to it. The red came from the pinky ring Luke has been wearing recently. I think the red is a cut, but I haven't looked into it.

I gently touched the bruise, wincing in pain as even the slightest amount of pressure on the wound caused it to throb. I felt my eyes water, and I immediately wiped my eyes with my sleeves.

I was going to cry. I don't cry, especially over shitty people who don't deserve my tears.

But as they kept falling, I realized it wasn't because of anyone but myself. I had so much pent up frustration, irritation, and anger, that it just kind of melted into a puddle of emptiness, depression, and confusion.

I felt sad and used. I was sad because things have been so fucked up lately. I felt used because despite not wanting to have sex with Calum, I did anyways. I felt disgusting, absolutely dirty. I just wanted to scrub at my skin until it burned all of his finger prints.

When did this get to the point where we slept together despite me not wanting to? When did I allow myself to be such a doormat to someone like this? I don't know.

I felt a lot of things right now, none of them were good.

This is why Luke thinks so lowly of me.

I covered my mouth with the sleeve of my jacket, my vision blurred with hot tears as I sniffled. Why couldn't I say no to him? How come I couldn't put my foot down and tell him to leave me alone? Why did I put put up such little resistance?

Maybe Luke's right about me.

I shook my head and looked over the city as I rubbed my arms gently. We were leaving today, driving tonight to the next city over, and repeating until we get to New York, then we stay there a couple of days. It's been like that for over a month now and I'm not used to it, nor do no like it.

It's too quick. This fast life just isn't for me.

I like to take time and just soak up my surroundings. I like learning each window on each building, each cloud in the sky, each pebble on the road. I liked waking up to a familiar view, and once it gets too repetitive, repeating the process somewhere else.

Seven cities in seven days just isn't me.

I shook my head and heard a knock on the hotel door. I stood up, grabbing a random pair of sweats and pulling them on so I didn't open the door in underwear. I opened the door after wiping my eyes and allowed the guy to walk in with plates.

"Put it on the room." I said and he nodded. I gave him a tip, despite him staying I didn't have to since it was his job, and I just thanked him as he left.

I closed the door and grabbed a cup of coffee, taking it out to the balcony. I sat down and took a drink of my coffee, the hot liquid burning my throat but soothing my cold body from the inside out. The goosebumps on my skin faded away, and I stood up leaning against the balcony gate.

I looked over the city, wondering if anyone else was as distressed as me. They probably were. In fact, I'm sure they were. Everyone has their fair share of problems, big or small. It's just a matter of how you deal with them; some people run, some face them, some pretend as if they aren't even there.

I was bored, but I wasn't. I couldn't quite put it into words. I was perfectly content staring longingly over the city, but I wanted to do something else. I didn't know what. I was too sad to draw, to frustrated to paint, too empty to color.