Coming Up For Air

3.1

"Wolves in our own skin
We're savages
We act so primitive
We're savages
Do the rain dance
Like you're on fire."
-Breathe Carolina, 'Savages'

☂Ashton☂

"He went out, didn't he? For a walk?" Ashton said, remembering earlier that night when the dark haired boy had left in a flurry of half-fallen tears and rumpled clothing.

"That was almost two hours ago." Luke said, something white-hot and desperate entering his eyes as he rocketed away from the stove and toward the front door, pulling on a pair of Converse while struggling into a black wool jacket.

"I--oh, shit. Do you think--I mean, he wouldn't. Would he?" Ashton felt cold dread seeping up his spine as he realized why Luke was such a frantic hurricane.

"I don't know. I don't know." Luke said, only halfway paying attention to the words coming out of his mouth. He was already grabbing his phone, his fingers flying over the touchscreen as he dialed what Ashton could only assume was Calum's number.

Luke was making moves to leave when Ashton's body finally caught up with his brain. He grabbed a red hoodie hanging by the door and tugged it over his head, not even bothering to put on socks as he shoved his feet into his shoes and followed Luke out the door.

Luke pulled he phone away from his ear, cursing with frustration as they stumbled down the narrow hallway to the back door that let out in a short, grimly ally.

"Fuck. Straight to voicemail. Shit. Shit."

Ashton's heart was pounding, but he tried to stay grounded and keep Luke okay. The sweatshirt he had grabbed was massively large on him, and the hood kept falling over his face in his eyes. He shook it off, exposing his wet hair to the cold night.

"I'm sure he's fine, Luke. He said that he--,"

"He was upset and I let him go! I shouldn't have done that! Now if he starts drinking again it will be my fault, all my fault. Shit." Luke cut off Ashton's reassurances.

"Luke, just take a breath. Think. He's probably just down the street, at the park or something."

"Park? Where's the park? Do you think he's there?" Luke turned to Ashton, all windblown and flushed and terrified, and Ashton felt sick for him because nobody deserved to live in constant terror like that, afraid that their best friend was actually a time bomb that was going to explode.

"It's--it's just down the road. To the right. Yeah, now like three blocks. But Luke, I don't think--," Ashton, admittedly, was not a good comforter. But he was trying, for Luke. He was trying be calm and steady and helpful and instead Luke kept cutting him off and cutting him in half.

"You don't think. You don't know. Fuck. Calum's all I have. I can't--no. No." Luke's voice was cracking.

You have me, Ashton wanted to say.

He didn't.

"It's going to be okay, Luke." Ashton said quietly as they rushed down the street flooded with darkness, the occasion streetlamp blinding them with it's caged-sun florescence.

"Not if he started again. It won't be okay."

"Luke, he did promise--,"

"People break promises, Ashton. You should know. That's why you never make any, right?" Luke said harshly as they rounded the corner to the park. He didn't even bother to turn around to look at Ashton when he said it, but if he had, he would have seen the hurt splayed across Ashton's face like somebody'd broken all his ribs with a baseball bat.