Baggage l.h. {au}

7.•

"Oh my fucking God!" I scream, making Luke flinch at my sudden outburst.

"What?" He turns his body towards me.

"Just fucking tell me, Jesus!" I sigh in frustration, running my hand through my hair.

"No, Dakota." Luke stands his ground.

"Stop pushing me away!"

"I'm not!" He defends, throwing his hands up in the air.

"Bullshit! Stop fucking lying to me!" I shout back.

"I'm not trying to..." He says, his voice gentle and quiet.

"Oh really?" I look at him in disbelief. "Because you're doing a really good fucking job at it." I roll my eyes, shaking my head. I begin to turn around, but his hand catches my forearm.

"Dakota, please... " He pleads, pulling my body around to face him. My gaze his planted on his face. I stare harshly.  He's making it so hard to like him.

"No." I say in a dark monotone. "All my fucking life, I've been lied to, and been kept from things.  I trust you, Luke, but obviously you can't trust me. Also, you just can't show up to my house, a bloody mess, stomach sliced, and not tell me what the fuck is going on!" I scream, bringing my eyes up to meet his, and I notice something I didn't before.

They were tinted a deep red.

"Dakota- I- Are you fucking high?" I cut him off, interrupting him in mid sentence.  I stared at him even harder.

"What?" He shakes his head.

"Luke. I know you know what I said." I put my hands on my hips and stare at him.

"No...." He says, moving his glance away from my eyes and to the ground.

"It's so fucking easy to tell that you're lying." I roll my eyes. "You know how I feel about liars." Luke's eyes fail to meet mine once again.

"I can't belive you right now." I say, shaking my head at the bruised and bloodied boy in front of me.

"What?" He raises his voice at me, shoving his hands out.  "What the fuck did I do so wrong!  Jesus, I'm sorry!"  Luke shouts, he really doesn't now what's going on.

"Fuck, Luke look at you!  You're beaten all to hell, not to mention that fucking gash on your stomach!  You're lucky everything didn't just fall out of you!"  Anger was rising with every word I spat out.  "First, you act like a complete douche, and ditch me.  Then, you go and get high, get jumped, and show up at my house almost dead!  And not tell me anything!"  I shake my head.  "Don't you think I deserve just a little bit of an explanation?"  Luke's eyes soften.

"Dakota- "

"No.  Get the hell out Luke, and let me be." I cut him off, again, pointing my left index finger towards the front door.  "And don't bother talking to me again." I  say, beginning to turn around and walk back upstairs to my bedroom.

"Where are you going?" His voice is harsh, and questionable.

"To bed, Luke." 

"Why?" He groans, running his hands through his blonde hair, his accent stick out more than ever with anger.  He didn't have a reason to be angry at me.

"I'm fucking tired, I have school tomorrow, and I'm done with you, you piss me off.  Get the hell out of my house, Luke." I jab my words out into the open air between us.

He didn't reply, his mind searched for the right words to say, but he failed. 

"Okay."  Luke turned around and walked to the door, reaching his hand for the doorknob, but abruptly stopped inches before.  He turned around again and spoke with pure sorrow, and sadness.