Baggage l.h. {au}

6. ♠

        My father had left hours ago, for some sort of business trip, as he claimed. He said he would not be back until late after noon the next night, not that I cared.

        I was actually feeling rather pissed off. I mean, If Luke didn't want to see me tonight, he could have called. Well, he did, but still. I didn't appreciate being hung up on. And he's still worrying me, I know he's not my boyfriend, but that phone call was shady.

        My anger was interrupted by a soft knock at the door. I get up, straightened out my shirt, and answer the door. Only to find a very pale, and ill looking Luke. All anger drains from my brain as I pull him into the light. I examine his face, it was darkly decorated with bruises and dried blood.

"Luke, what the fuck is wrong with your face?" I scrunch up my nose and and take a step back and get a better look.

"Nice to see you, too, princess." He says, about to fall over. "Can you please just help me? Please?" He says, lifting up his ripped shirt, exposing his stomach. A thick gash stretched just above his belly button.

"Please don't ask questions, I feel like I'm going to pass out." He says, puffing up his cheeks.  He leaned against the wall, and breathed deeply.  He was obviously in severe pain.  I couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

        I pull him into the bathroom and sat him on the toilet.

"Explain." I command. Standing in from of him as he clutches his stomach.

"It's nothing." He lies, his Australian accent thick, making me want to bite my lip.  It was most definitely something.

"Luke." I threaten, taking his face in my hands, he recoils and flinches away from my touch.  My heart broke a little.

"Ow." Is all he says. "My face is in pain."

"Yeah, I would say your face is fucked." I smirk digging through the bathroom drawers. "Where the fuck does he put the first aid kit?" I groan and continue throwing things out of the drawer. "Bingo." I pull out the bright red box.

"Why did you blow me off." I say, moving Luke's hand off of his lap, and sitting down on his legs, he places a hand on my waist.  I shiver, and try to play it off.  I pretend I didn't notice him touching me.

"Dakota, I really didn't want to...but I kind of got into some deep shit." His face falls as he motions his hands around his face. "I would much rather be laughing and watching a movie with you right now." He bits his lip ring, a nervous habit he seemed to have picked up. He gave my hip a slight squeeze as I clean out the cut on his upper lip.  I smile.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I say, and he shakes his head.

"No, I don't want you worrying about me." A flash of guilt washes through his eyes, I didn't question any further, even though I wanted to.

"You look like shit." I say, as I put triple antibiotic cream on the slashes on his face. Luke laughs and wraps his other arm around my waist.

"You look gorgeous." He smiles up at me.  My heart sped up. "I like your shirt. It says the truth." He bites his lip and straightens my shirt so he can read it.

"Fighting for peace is like fucking for virginity. I like it." He reads my shirt. I felt kind of self conscious with eyes traveling over my breasts and other parts if my body.  "It has a point."

"Everything about me has a point." I smile.  He grinned at me.

He flinches when I put a band-aid on his forehead. "But, don't you think that would buy you some dirty looks." He grins. I shrug.