Breathe

Chapter 18

"All that we are is the result of what we have thought. The mind is everything. What we think, we become." -Buddha

Where could he have gone? Maybe he's just getting a glass of water? I'm over thinking this, as usual. I'll go and look for him. I rub my eyes and glance over at the alarm clock. It's about three in the morning, and I think we fell asleep around one. I should be exhausted at the moment, but there's a slight panic coursing through me that has alerted every cell in my body.

I remove the heavy comforter from my body and step onto the floor. The cold air wraps around my body causing a shiver to run up my spine. My head feels dizzy from waking up so early, but the panic is making my head return to its' normal state.

Maybe I shouldn't go find him. Shit, I'm so indecisive. What if he just wants to be alone for a while? Before I can decide against it, my feet are carrying me down the hallway. I'm almost to the stairs when I hear a faint guitar melody from somewhere in the house. Surely that must be Luke.

The solid stairs keep my footsteps quiet as I descend the staircase barefoot. The marble steps are freezing which makes my feet move quicker. The guitar chords keep becoming louder, so I assume I'm heading in the right direction.

The carpeted basement steps are tempting me to walk down them. Should I go down? He hasn't opened up about how he's actually feeling about his parent's presence in town. We've only been together a little more than a month, but I can't help but hope that he needs me right now. My feet make the decision for me and make the first step.

When I reach the bottom of the stairs, something catches my attention. Not Luke, not the guitar, and not the music coming from the guitar, but the bottle beside him setting on the table half-filled with a dark brown liquid. Shit, is he drinking? Now that I'm faced with this, I realize I don't think I've ever seen Luke excessively drink in front of me. The fact that he could be drunk makes me want to run back up the stairs and all the way back to my house. I've never faced him in this state of mind, and I know it shouldn't scare me because I know he would never hurt me, but the slight panic I felt earlier transforms to fear.

He's facing away from me and hasn't noticed me still standing on the stairs. His hand hastily reaches beside him in search of the bottle and nearly knocks it over. Once he has the grip of the bottle, he brings it to his lips and takes a large swig of the alcohol. I must have made noise because his head turns around and our eyes meet.

"Vanesssaaa," Luke slurs. Fuck.

"Hi," I murmur.

"Don't be shy, come here." I take slow steps closer to him but still keep a slight distance. "Are you afraid or something?" he asks, confused. The closer I come to him, I can see the red in his eyes that gives away his drunken state, as if the slurring didn't.

"No," I simply state.

"I can tell," he says and rolls his eyes.

"I've just...never seen you like this," I say.

"Well damn it's not like I'm not going to hurt you," Luke says in annoyance. I know that his parents are the root of his annoyance, but I can't help but think maybe he doesn't want me here. Maybe I should leave.

"I know."

"What's with your one worded responses? I should be the one who can't form a damn sentence," Luke says and stumbles over a few words. He takes another large gulp from the bottle. I'm beyond tempted to snatch the alcohol away from him, but my hands won't do it.

"I don't know," I say. I want to say more, I just don't know what to say.

"Seriously?" he says and I roll my eyes at him. This night keeps getting worse, great.