changes • cake

1.2

"Have a good day, Mr.Hemmings." The doctor smiled at Luke, giving him a firm handshake accordant with his soft smile. He let his hand fall from the others wrinkled one, smiling back gently and giving a nod. He was quite anxious to leave the hospital, good news not necessarily ever coming out of him being there. So far he had been diagnosed with an eating disorder, witnessed someone vomit blood in the middle of the hallway when he went to get Calum from the cafeteria, and watched Michael accidentally rip his stitches out and seeing him rushed back to get it fixed. It was a lot to take in for only being five hours. The intoxicating smell of chemicals and cleaning supplies was enough to make his stomach ache when he first stepped into the large building but now he wasn't sure if he had gone nose blind or if his head was aching too much for him to have time to recognize the odor anymore.

He turned around, almost bumping into the Maori that was waiting for him. He rolled his eyes fondly at the giggle that escaped his lips and nudged him. "Come on, I want to get out of this hellhole." Calum had happily offered Luke a ride back to the apartment, Michael having already had one of his other friends pick him up so they could finish some overdue work for their architecture class that Luke was probably failing at the moment considering he's been quite preoccupied. His night had been terrible and it was already 2am. He was exhausted emotionally, physically and mentally and he just wanted sleep. He wanted sleep more than anything in the world.

Jeremy had been taken to jail for the night after the ambulance made sure he was okay, patching him and having a police car ready due to the violent act he had imposed on the boys. It was more than likely just for the night, knowing Michael probably wasn't going to be bothered to press charges for the stitches he had to get. He was already stressed enough as it was and dealing with lawyers was not something he wanted to add to his to-do list. Albeit Michael wanting "the maniac" in jail for what he did to Luke, he couldn't exactly say anything about it. For him to even have a chance on the police listening to his story, the blond was the one who needed to say something. Not Michael. And unfortunately, rape culture still made it nearly impossible for him to get justice.

Anyway, Luke wasn't too happy about the state that his apartment was in, blood stains sinking into the old and worn carpet, making it look like a crime scene. He was tempted to put up yellow police tape, a visible sign that the area was off limits because the earlier events that had taken place on the ground underneath his feet. The curtains were closed, not even allowing the glowing moonlight to infiltrate their surroundings, leaving them in a darkness that was only lit up by the small light above the oven. His hand wandered aimlessly around the walls, blindly searching for the living room switch until it formed under his fingertips. He flipped it up, the space immediately becoming a visible mess and not just one hidden in the shadows.

For some reason, it made Luke's skin itch so terribly that he could've sworn ants were crawling underneath his skin.

"Jesus." He heard Calum mutter under his breath, dark eyebrows furrowed at the sight of crimson. His eyes went back up to Luke's blue ones, frowning when seeing his frozen state. He took a step towards the smaller one and pushed some blond fringe from his eyes. "Are you alright?" He asked gently, making the other blink out of his trance. Calum had noticed him doing that more and more, zoning out and barely inhaling or exhaling oxygen, forcing him to take a deep breath when someone finally forced him out of it.