Faded // Luke Hemmings

chapter 3

Luke’s POV

                Three days after Tatum kicked me out of her apartment, I still haven’t left mine. If today wasn’t my day off, I probably would be getting fired for calling in sick so much. But I can’t seem to stop moping. Why would she just kick me out like that? Everything was going fine or at least I thought it had been. I would never have pressured her into doing anything, if that’s what she was thinking. But no matter how many times I knock on her door to tell her that, she just pretends she isn’t home.

                It’s pathetic really, the way I can’t seem to get her out of my head. There is just something about her and the way she doesn’t seem to care about much of anything at all. I’m not going to claim so love at first sight bullshit, but there is definitely some level of fascination. But I just need to understand

                How can Ash and Daisy do everything so easily? They may not be official, but everyone knows they will be. It’s like they’re always off in their own little world, so completely engrossed in each other that nothing else in the world seems to matter. They were just so connected. Maybe I don’t want that with Tatum, after all I barely know her, but I crave their simplicity.

                There is no reason for me to be so incredibly drawn to her. Tatum is cold, aggressively honest, and more than a little full of herself. Is she beautiful? Yes, but also a total bitch. Yet I can’t see to stay away. Fuck, maybe I’m some sort of hopeless romantic for believing there has to be a softer part of her under all the tough exterior. No one can possibly be this perpetually angry without a reason. And I have to figure it out.

                Before I give myself the chance to lose my nerve, I’m pushing myself off the floor and out my bedroom door. Tatum is only across the hall, but the steps it takes to get there make it feel like a mile. Quinn and Daisy are both here, and I can’t look anyone in the eye as I trudge out the door with a muttered, “I’ll be back later.”

                I should just give up and leave this girl alone. Get on with my own life and stop being so fixated on someone who clearly doesn’t want me. But there is no getting back now; my fist is already pounding on the door. This is a shit idea, is all I can think to myself as panic sets in and I realize I have no idea what I’m going to say. Hey, why didn’t you sleep with me the other day? Fucking A Luke you’re an idiot…

                All my thoughts stop when the door swings open. Tatum looks exhausted, completely worn down with bags under her eyes to prove it. But that isn’t what catches my eye. It’s the swelling on the left side of her face; the deep purple bruise that’s tinted yellow at the edges from her forehead to the hollow of her cheek. She gives me a half-assed smirk, not bothering to say anything more than, “Hey Blondie.”     

                My hand reaches out involuntarily, gently gripping her chin and tugging her face to the side so I can see the mark more clearly. Anger is rushing through my veins faster than a flash flood after a rain storm; an emotion so intense I can describe it as anything other than rage. And it’s not just because it’s Tatum. It’s because I’m standing in the hall next to girl with a bruise on her cheek and I know, somewhere in this fucking city, is a boy who put it there.

                “Who?” My voice is strained through clenched teeth. Every muscle in my body is tight. Tatum sighs deeply, a sad and defeated sound, shakes her head and doesn’t reply. “Who fucking hit you?!”           

                She tugs her face away from my hand aggressively, eyes alight with anger. “No one fucking hit me, Luke.” She spits. “Not that it would be any of your damn business anyways.”