The Broken Ones (Cake FanFiction)

Chapter 15

Almost 4 months since we updated.

Blame me tbh.

•Calum's POV•

I sit on the wooden bench outside of my house, not motivated enough to go back inside and attempt to get rest. Two whole hours have passed and more cigarettes have been inhaled.

Dawn is starting to break out from the horizon and I take that as my cue to finally get up and go back into my house.

I grab the pack of cigarettes and tip toe back in so I don't wake the boy who kept me company hours ago in the pale moonlight underneath the stars.

I creep up the stairs and scurry into my bedroom to change my clothes for the day. Luckily, I have time to decide today. Weekends are a gift.

A black T-shirt and gray skinny jeans end up on me after some riffling through my closet.

As I pass by my mirror I can't help but notice how bloodshot my eyes are and how deep and dark the bags underneath them are.

In fact, they're almost as intense as Luke's.

And they're pretty intense.

I go down the staircase and into the kitchen to make myself some breakfast, as I never usually eat during the week and weekends seem to be the only time I eat this meal.

Too lazy to actually try and make something, I pour a bowl of cereal. Slowly, I eat the food while I scroll through my phone absentmindedly.

As I do this, I begin to hear movement from the upper story, meaning that Luke is awake. At only seven in the morning, he sure didn't get much sleep.

Like I'm the one to say that.

Suddenly, he appears at the bottom of the stairs.

"Hey," he mumbles and trudges over to the bar where I'm standing and eating my cereal.

I glance up and grin at him, too much food in my mouth to say hello back. After I get it down, I begin to talk.

"Sleep okay?" I ask him.

Luke shrugs lightly, like it would hurt to move his shoulders a bit higher. "Did you sleep at all?"

I shake my head no. "I don't need much sleep. I don't sleep well anyways." I swirl the spoon around in the milk.

He gives me a tiny nod in response and shakily sits down on a stool. He looks like a baby giraffe learning how to walk for the first time.

"You alright?" I ask as I finally stop swirling the milk around.

"Sore, I guess?" Luke answers in an unsure tone. He looks down at his feet, obviously not interested in talking about how he feels.

Not having much else to say, I turn around with the bowl and place it gently in the sink.

While doing so, I offer him breakfast. "I can get you anything you'd like."

Luke winces at the thought of a meal and, with so much melancholy, declines food. "I'm good, thanks," he adds as if that'll make his refusal to eat anything better.

I sigh, but the thought of yesterday's results stopped me from begging him to eat something.

Luke stays seated quietly, watching me turn on the water to clean out the bowl. I do my task and then turn around to look at the boy.

He still looks so fragile. He hasn't changed a bit in the past few days. It really hurts to see him appear so lifeless and shattered. He is someone who is almost as broken as me.