his two thousand deaths + l.h

nine

IX

Pin was staring at the blank color of her ceiling for about two hours, not being able to fall asleep no matter how much sheep she counted in her head.

She can’t get over the thought of what she saw earlier that night. Luke owned antipsychotics. It unsettled her that she was living with someone with the probability of being dangerous, but mostly because she was genuinely concerned about Luke’s emotional condition.

Sure, it’s only been roughly two weeks since they’ve known each other but Luke’s one of the most caring people Pin has ever lived to meet. He was an asshole to some, sure, but to Pin and Ophelia, he was always concerned and questioning about everything, only wanting to be a good and lovable companion even though Pin knew that he was tired of being caring sometimes.

She considered talking to him but Luke did a great job of hiding from her throughout the dinner and by the time it was midnight, Calum suggested that they both head home. Luke probably left before she did but when Pin went around the house, nothing was even remotely moved and Luke was nowhere to be found.

She assumed that Luke went home with Sandara. She wouldn’t be surprised, they were all over each other during the event. It pained her but she accepted it. She knew it all along anyways; she was way out of Luke’s league and he belonged with someone as artistic, intelligent and beautiful like Sandara.

Pin sighed and lost count of the jumping fluffy sheep in her head. She was at a hundred thirty six, around, until, she heard something downstairs.

There was a loud rumbling and it alarmed her for a moment until the thought of Luke and Sandara stumbling inside the house came to her head. The thought of them passionately making out, barely opening their eyes or taking their hands off each other to see where they’re going crossed her mind and Pin instantly felt sick.

It was silent for a few beats and there was a crash too loud to be just two people passionately making out. Someone fell from what seemed like the staircase.

Pin shot out of her bed and ran downstairs, expecting a to see someone breaking in,  only to see Luke sat beside the sofa, his head supported by the arm rest.

He looked peaceful for a moment until he coughed, and Pin could see the trace of blood spluttering out of his lips.

“Holy shit, Luke, are you okay?” Pin yelped, running faster and sliding above the floor to sit beside Luke. She picked up his head and laid it on her shoulder, cradling him, and she felt water seep through her shirt. Luke was crying. “Shhh, sh, tell me what happened Luke.”

Luke sniffed and for long, agonizing minutes, he didn’t do anything else but that. Pin began rocking them back and forth and finally, Luke moved. He brought a hand around Pin’s waist and she felt her heart melt because of how vulnerable and weak Luke was at that moment.

“A—“ Luke hiccupped, “Antacid.”

“What?” Pin asked, confused and Luke pointed to the cupboard under the staircase.

“Acidic. Antacid.”