Again | Luke Hemmings

xi

I stared at him in confusion.

"What?" I asked out loud.

"You heard me." He says coldly.

"I . . . I don't . . . I don't . . ." I stuttered.

"Are you and Michael together?" His tone is harsh and he's facing me now.

"No." I scrunched my eyebrows. What the hell? We're just friends.

"Doesn't look like it in the pictures I've seen." He scoffs.

Rude.

"What pictures?"

"Don't pretend that you don't know." He rolled his eyes.

"What's your problem?" I raised my voice.

He opens his mouth to speak but I interrupted him.

"And even if we were together, that's none of your business. It shouldn't matter anyway, it's not hurting anyone." I sighed after.

The look on his face shifted from angry to . . . hurt? I don't care if I'm acting like a complete bitch, he shouldn't assume things like that. I wouldn't dare hurt Michael if we do date.

Luke went back to his previous position and stared at the wall again. I copied him and we fell into another silence.

The small digital clock beside me beeped, blinking the time- 3:00 AM.

I get up from my seat and go to the kitchen to drink water. I hear Luke get up as well and follow me.

"You should probably sleep now. You wouldn't want a bad hangover." I say quietly, not facing him.

"I'm not tired." He protested.

"You probably have-"

"Let's talk." He says, grabbing my glass before I could reach for it and handing it to me.

"Thanks." I muttered, still looking down and went to my fridge.

The chair moving behind me signaled that he was sitting down.

I turned to face him for the first time in an hour, maybe? He had his head in between his arms; like the sleeping position you do in school.

I took a seat across from him and drank my water.

While debating whether or not I should tap him, he moves and sits properly.

He stares intently at me and I suddenly felt self conscious. I wasn't expecting any guests at 3 in the morning so I probably looked like a mess right now.

"So," I gulped. "What do you want to talk about?" Again. I quietly added.

He tilts his head, resembling a lost puppy. Did he forget?

"You told me you wanted to talk?" I raised a brow, trying to get him to remember if he forgot.

"Right." He nods. He lets out a breath before speaking. "I'm sorry for . . . what I said earlier. I was assuming things."

"It's okay." I forced a smile.

"No, it's not okay. You've been through so much shit yet here you are being so forgiving." He slammed his fists on the table.

I flinched in my seat. "Luke,"

"No, Joey. Don't deny it." He gave me a hard look. For a second, he reminded me of my dad. I shook that thought off my head before I started crying.

"Every person that has hurt you still manages to hurt you even after you've forgiven them." He looked down.

"Even me." He says to himself.

"Yeah you're mad but you still forgive. I . . . don't understand." He finally looks up.

"Luke." I sigh and got the wrong mind to reach for his hand, squeezing it.

Am I still mad at him?

"I'm sorry." He whispered, squeezing my hand.

"It's okay." I pulled my hand away from him.

I see him frown then bit his lip, playing with his lipring.

****

THAT WAS WEIRD SORRY

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