Bruises (Luke Hemmings fanfic)

breathe

I take a deep breath. I can do this. I can get better... I hope.

"Diana?"

"I..." my eyes are glued to the razors, scissors, and knives in a bag on my dresser. If I take them, I will surely relapse. If I leave them, then I'll want them and then I'll hate myself. What am I supposed to do? I can't ignore the painful urges in my chest, and I can't give into them either... either way, I'm screwed and doomed to fail...

"Diana?" Luke calls again. "Are you okay?"

"Yes." My voice is cold and distant as I quickly shove the bag deep into my suitcase. I am shocked at my own actions, but too weak to take it out. I know that he'd never let me have it, he'd not let me take them. But he'd not let me leave them either. He'd take them away from me... 

Luke taps the door twice before entering. "Need any help?" He asks gently, face as kind as his voice. He seems to trust me not to do anything stupid while he's offering help my way.

"No I'm done," I whisper in reply. How much of this is just pity? Does he really wanna help me or does he just want some charity case? Am I a publicity stunt? Why would he care about me?

"Ready to go?"

I nod. I don't want his pity. I don't need it. If he had just let me go...

"Penny for your thoughts?" He asks, carrying my things to the car. "Even though they're worth so much more."

"Nothing..."

"Oh come on." He casts me a smile. I bet most girls melt for that little lopsided grin, that smirk. Not me. I can't let myself.

"No. We aren't friends. Why you want me around is beyond me."

"Why wouldn't I? You're kind- though you obviously hate me. You're beautiful- which is why I don't understand why you cut." He looks at me, watching. "I want you to get better. You deserve to be better."

"Do I? You don't know me."

"Maybe I want to know you."

I roll my eyes. "No you don't." I zip my bag and pick it up. "I'm ready."

He studies me. "I would like to get to know you- if you'd let me."

"Why would you want to? I'm ugly, stupid, weak, fat, and I cut. What's the point?"

"Don't you ever call yourself those things again. I want you to get better. Do you want to know what I see when I look at you?"

"Whatever it is I'm sure you're crazy."

"I see a beautiful girl. A little on the skinny side, but gorgeous. Kind, smart, talented. Do you even see your talents?"

"No."

"Well," he picks a drawing off the wall beside him. "Did you draw this?"

I nod. "I did."

"It's beautiful. And I heard you singing softly in my car- you have quite the voice little Diana." He lays the drawing on my bed, then smiles at me. "Love, you have lots of talents, and you're beautiful."

He's trying to get something from me. It's not fair. He seemed nice... he just wants what they all want.

My eyes drop to the floor, avoiding his. "Can we go? Please?"

"Yeah. Of course."

He leads me outside to his car, and opens the door for me. I climb in, wanting to run away.