Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
the waves crashing into the broken rocks enclosing the glittering beach where luke sat rung through his ears like a lullaby. the rim of his black jeans were soaked through, as he sat and stared at the reflection of the deep blue water infront of him, his empty eyes staring back at him. maybe if he willed himself long enough, those blue eyes would turn green.
he was shivering, as the small whisps of wind slipped their way to his thin frame under the clothing that hung of his skeleton like body. he didn't feel it. he was always cold. it was always cold. he wondered if michael also felt cold, and alone like he does.
his hoodie wasn't providing much warmth, as much as he wished that these materialistic things would provide him comfort, nothing could replace the existence of michael clifford. goosebumps were breaking into the skin of his neck, as the sky was growing cold and the crimson velvet was fading into black. time was running out before the town went to sleep.
he deserves it. the darkness. the cold.
the blonde pushed himself forward, stumbling and letting out sharp breaths as he clambered off the beach towards his neighbourhood. his heart was hammering, and the sand harshly crushing into his bare feet as walked along the blurred lines of houses covering the blocks and made the walk back, stepping on the cracks of the chipped old sidewalk.
the neighboorhood was eerily quiet, the soft whispers of him humming along to the neighborhood that played from the headphones hanging in the crook of his ears was the only sound that existed. the ocean has now rose to the sky, and reflected into his blank eyes in dark hues of blue and black woven and knitted togather with multitudinous spots of white.
luke willed his mind to be blurred in the sea of colors, only gravitating back when he stood infront of the familiar birch home of the irwin's, his eyes trained on the rows and rows of flowers that trailed the pathway to their home.
the blonde really was not one to steal. his mum had taught him better than this, but to be fair, his mum had not taught him how to fill this empty cavity in his chest that was eating him alive.
luke breathed slowly through his pursed lips, willing his feet to walk towards the small path leading up to the home. looking up, he noticed the lights were dimmed and there was no source life to be seen inside, so he took his chances. taking out the small silver pocket knife from his jeans, he held it tightly in his fist causing his knuckles to turn white as blood ceased to flow. his body was quivering, and he didn't know if it was fear or adrenaline or the cold. he would like to believe it was the latter, floating between the numbness in his heart and the voices in his mind and that's not about to change now.
bunching together the small flowers in his shaking hands, luke steadied out a breath before bringing the knife up and chopping off the dainty petal webbed weeds. his breathing slowly evened out, and he found himself slowly chuckling at how unbelievably stupid this whole situation was. déjà vu when he actually bought his boy flowers and took him on dates, and now he was left cold, staring at the dead artifacts in his hands that would wilt away in a couple of days just like his michael had.
