I returned home feeling uncannily happy. Maybe free. Luke strolled into the living room, but paused when he saw my face, "What's with the goofy grin?" He questioned suspiciously.
I shrugged my shoulders as id to say 'I don't know'. He accepted it and walked away. I threw myself onto the couch, flicking the television on.
Luke returned a few moments later, not looking too pleased with me. "Why am I hearing that you have been hanging out with Ashton, Hanns?" He asked rather calmly compared to his demeanor. I wasn't going to let him ruin my mood.
"Because I have been." I stated confidently.
He took a step back, like I shot him right through his ego. "What?" He seemed shocked. "He's an arrogant asshole who only wants to get in your pants. You can't hang out with him anymore." He crossed his arms over his chest like he had some kind of authority over me.
My eyebrows shot up. "Really? Says who? He has never forced me into anything and he's actually a great guy. Just because you think he is a threat to your band, doesn't mean he is an arrogant asshole. Right now, the only arrogant asshole I know is you." It was true, Ash never pushed me into anything, I always agreed.
"Are you insane, Hannah? Killing the Birds doesn't have any competition or threats, especially not from Uniting For Oblivion. You are delusional, he's going to hurt you. And I will make sure that you won't b seeing him because you aren't going back to school, remember." Luke smirked.
"You're making a mistake, Luke. This is just going to cause a bigger problem for you." I responded.
"Yeah, okay. As if any thing could get worse." He retorted, storming off to his room. I rolled my eyes.
Ashton was possessive. He didn't like to be out of control; everything was dealt with by him or else it wasn't. Plain and simple. There's a line between what he was okay with having a lack of control with and what he wasn't.
Luke was very much crossing that line.
It was suddenly dark, so I scurried into my room, flicking the light on. My room was a complete wreck, my only problem was that I wasn't sure that was allowed to clean it. I sighed, picking up a few random shirts from the floor before tossing them into the hamper.
Then some pants.
Aligned some shoes.
My bed was next. I was hardly aware of the faint wheezing that erupted from my throat.
After I was finished, I sprawled myself out onto my mattress to marvel at my accomplishment. But, I kept wheezing.
Even when I straightened out my body, completely leveled it, I was still wheezing.
And it was getting worse.
My eye sight was blurring, so I sat up. I tried to call for Luke, but his music was turned all the way up, and I knew it was hopeless.
I forced myself up, out of my room and struggled to his door. By that time, I was gasping. My knuckles would close properly, so knocking wasn't possible.
I resorted to just twisting the knob, but it was locked. His music was blaring, but I still tried to jiggle the door handle. My knees gave out, my chest was collapsing on itself with each breath.
My eyes were closing as a gut of wind hit my face from the opening of the door.
