Save Me

Chapter Eleven

A.N. I keep finding these sad and tormented gifs of Asa Butterfield being broody and I gotta say I couldn't stop myself. Vote and comment if you like the chapter, it's an alright one I think. Let me know. Xoxo.

"Never run back to what broke you."

-Rihanna

♔ Chapter Eleven ♔

It was already dark outside, and cold too. The sky was torn by black and blue, and the sharp edges of the crescent moon. There weren't many stars, I'd noticed. They flickered from far away.

The streets were already silent. I could hear my own footsteps echoing. When I turned the corner at the end of the road, the house came into view. I perched myself in the shadows of a back alley, looking out at the house, into the windows. I needed to be sure.

I could feel the cold stinging at the ends of my fingers, my nose, and ears too. But I stood there anyway.

I stood outside all of that night, hiding away, looking for him. His bedroom light had gone off just after midnight, and I waited, staring out, trying to convince myself, hoping that it was true. His light came back on early in the morning. Just before the sunrise, when the sky is trickling in pink or bright orange, when the morning is at its coldest; I watched my breath leave my mouth and wisp up like cigarette smoke, and in that moment, I wanted nothing more than a cigarette.

Bad habits, I told myself, shaking my head.

"Fuck it," I said, rubbing my hands together for warmth. I found a tiny convenience store open just a few streets away, and bought a pack of cigs. Just as I was sparking it up outside the store, I turned, and headed back to the street. My fingers stung from trying to get the lighter to work, fumbling with it. I sighed, and threw it away.

"Need a light?" he asked.

"Cheers," I said, looking up. "Tom."

"Nope, still Luke," he smiled.

"Sorry."

The cig fell from in between my lips, straight to the floor. I hadn't expected him to see me. I looked down and stared at the cig on the floor. I couldn't bring myself to look him in the eyes.

He bent down and picked up the cig, lighting it in between his lips and taking off a few drags before passing it to me.

"Where are you off to so early?" he asked, nudging shoulders with me.

"Nowhere," I blurted, passing the cig back to him.

"How long have you smoked?" he asked, inhaling sharply.

"Couple years. You?"

"I don't smoke," he said, passing me it back. "Smoking is a disgusting habit." I thought he was being serious, until he chuckled seconds after. "You need to be a little less serious, and smile sometimes."

"So you do smoke?"

"I like a fag after a shag," he smiled. So does Hedley, I thought.

"And do you shag fags too?"

"Whoa, okay," he said. "Sure, I know my way around a man in the bedroom. Did you and Tom ever... you know... shag?"