Baggage l.h. {au}

10.◙

       (beware of horribly crappy content)  (THIS IS SUCH A SHITTY FILLER)

 It's Friday night, and I was somehow convinced that going out to a random club with Kat, and getting completely wasted would some how help me.  And to make matters worse, it was my birthday. 

But, I convinced myself that I was being a baby, and I needed to get over it.  Time to get up, and quit mopping over something that wasn't mine.  It was exhausting.

And right now, this song was convinces me I needed a drink.

"Listen, baby, just because you and your boy toy didn't work out doesn't mean any of the other guys won't." Kat says, sounding like a wise mother.  She talks from experience.  But, something about Kat sounding like a mother made me mad.  More mad than it should.

"He's not my toy, Kat." I snap, rolling my eyes, continuing to bump into random bodies as the music pulsed between us.  She ignores me.  Kat rolled her eyes, and twirled me around.  She smiled at me again.

"You really know how to dance, Dakota." She smiles at me, wiping the sweat off her forehead.  Her grin reminded me of Luke, and suddenly  It was getting hot in here, and I needed to cool down.  I don't know why I missed him so much.  I just  did.  I missed his height, his hugs, his lip ring, the dark tattoos, I miss his voice.  Everything.  

"I'm going to get some fresh air." I speak, already pushing bodies out of my way before she had time to protest.  I made my way to the heavy metal back door, and pushed it opened, instantly knocking a body out of the way.  The cursed and moved slightly.  I rolled my eyes and apologized.  

"Oops, sorry." I say, pushing out a breath of air, and shoved my way through once again, receiving more rude glances.  I made my way to the back of the cement balcony, looking over the view.  Strangely, it reminded me of home.  Or mom, but to me, my mom was my home.

  Wherever she was, I was welcome. I felt at home.  She was always busy, which I guess linked her to the busy streets of Sacramento.  I watched as several cars speed by, not even glancing to see if there was a single pedestrian in sight.  I laugh to myself, refocusing in awe at the Tower Bridge and the river it runs across.

"Beautiful, huh?" A deep, yet familiar voice says beside.  I mentally groan, looking over, a Luke.  A surprisingly normal-eyed Luke.  He smiles down at me.  "Like you." He laughs.  I'm really not in the mood for compliments, or boys for that matter.  But, he wasn't giving up that easy. 

"What do you want Luke?" I say, his smile fades.  I meant for the question to go deep, what does he want?  He can't seem to make up his mind.  What does he want from me?  It hurts more than it should.  

"I don't know Dakota, what do I want?" He says, biting his lip and turning away before sharply turning back towards me.  "I wish you would fucking tell me, because I don't know what to fucking think anymore."  He continues on, shushing me when I try to interrupt his sudden, and random rant.  His voice was intoxicating, having more of an effect on me than the alcohol.

        "I wish I could stay away, but that's the thing.  I really can't.  It's impossible.  Every fucking fiber in my damn body is dragging me towards you.  And I wish it wouldn't." He says, stuffing his hands in his pockets, looking away with a heart-crushing look on his face, as if he really was in pain. My heart started to race.  I was anticipating whatever was going to happen next.  "I can't do this."  He says, sending my heart to my toes. 

 Why did he fucking bother then?  

"Then don't." I whisper, loud enough for him to hear me.  He glances away again.