leaked (l.h.)

30

"If you're upset, you should tell me," Luke follows me to the kitchen, trying to keep up behind me as I do my best to out-walk him. "It's okay to be upset. I was upset too."

"But I'm not," I say weakly, a lot weaker than I wanted to. But nonetheless, I try to be sincere. Because honestly, I'd be excited to if it was me moving to New York to pursue my dream of the stage. But Luke's is coming true. "I'm excited for you. That's like, what people dream of doing. And it's right at your feet."

"Yeah," he scoffs, standing at the island as I turn off the stove. "Isn't that crazy?"

"It is," I pull it out, dropping the scorching pan on top of the stove. "It's very crazy. But I knew there was something different about you when I saw you perform that one night."

"You're not mad at me?" He asks, watching how I slide the pizza and put it onto four plates. 

"Why would I be mad? It's not like you can control it," I shake my head, turning to hand him the plate. But instead of being emotional like I was five minutes ago, I am numb now. God, now I can see why people get hooked on this stuff. And perhaps that was why I was so hesitant to try it, too: knowing that the numbness would be enough to keep me from wanting anything else. I was numb once upon a time, until I wasn't. And now I find myself wondering why I hated it so much. "And even so, your dreams are coming true. Don't let me hold you back. I'll be okay."

"If tomorrow turns out alright, I'll be gone in January," he tells me as I turn around to hand him his plate. He looks down at my hand as I give him the plate, placing the three others on a tray to help me carry it upstairs. "That'll give us some time."

"And if it doesn't?" I ask, picking up the tray and turning to him.

"Next month some time."

"Right," I nod slowly. "Okay, well I'm hoping that it goes well." 

I move past him and upstairs, leaving him in the kitchen in my dust. Despite how much I'm anticipating the familiar sting of the hurt in my chest, the chemicals prevents me from feeling them. And as I move up the stairs, I know that I've gotten a taste of something I'll soon be relying on. 

"Yum," Michael says as I hand them each a plate. "I was starving."

I sit back at my vanity once they each have a plate, and as I feel how exhausted I am I know that I wouldn't be had I not tried the substance they had given me earlier. 

Luke comes in a few minutes after I've left him downstairs, his eyes redder than any one of ours. Calum is high as hell, since he can barely move anything besides his eyes. Ashton's not as high but still pretty bad - since he can't stop laughing at how out of it Calum is. And Michael's hunger is through the roof, but I don't think it's because he's stressed anymore. 

We're all silent, and as I listen to the gentle thunder outside I feel the heaviness of my eyelids become more than I can handle. But there's no room on my bed, since Ashton and Calum both have found each other half asleep on top of my mattress. Michael lays on the floor, and Luke sits on the ground. 

I grab a pillow from behind Calum's head, mumbling a quiet apology as I lay down on the ground. I don't have the energy to ask them to go home, so I guess I'll wait until they're sober enough to do so. 

I lay on the ground, bringing my pillow under my head as I feel the cold hardwood against my skin. I like the rain, and I like the way the lightning illuminates my bedroom. It's a beautiful storm outside, and as I find myself halfway asleep on the bedroom floor I realize that Luke has moved behind me. So I turn to face him, and as his bloodshot eyes meet mine I watch how his eyebrows raise.

"I thought you were asleep," he whispers, another one of my pillows underneath his head. And as I rub my eyes, I wish I was. "Everyone else is."

"Are they?" I say quietly, lifting my head up to see Michael on the floor on the other side of Luke, a soft yet steady snore escaping from his lips. Same with Ashton and Calum, and as I slowly bring my head back down on my pillow I can't help but giggle. "I guess they are."

"I can't sleep," he turns to lay on his stomach, wrapping his arms around the pillow. "I don't know. Something about storms just scare me."

"I like storms," I lay on my back, bringing my arms up under my neck as I stare at the fairy lights across the room. "Were you scared this morning?"

"Terrified," he chuckles. "I was shaking."

"I could tell," I turn to him. "Well, you don't have to walk alone anymore."

"I know," he smiles, burying his face in my pillow. "I'm glad."

"Me too," I smile at him. "I am, too."

He nibbles on his lip ring, and as he moves up to his hands and knees I feel him bring himself closer to me. But I try not to pay too much attention to it. It's platonic.

"You know earlier, when you told me you had a crush on me?"

"Yeah," I look over at him. 

"Did you mean it?"

"Why would I lie?" I scoff as I bring myself up on my elbows. "I don't lie to you."

"Right," he nods softly. "Right." 

He lays back down, but I can't help but wonder why he asked. And as his eyes flutter closed, I gently hit his side. 

"Why?" I ask when his eyes dart back open. "Why did you bring that up?"

"What?" He chuckles, moving to his elbows too so that he can get a better view of me. "What do you mean?"

"Why did you bring that up?" I repeat. "You brought it up for a reason. Why?"

"I just wanted to hear you say it again," he says honestly. 

"Okay," I smile, feeling my cheeks redden as I lay back down. "Your turn. You said you had a crush on me, too?"

"Yeah, for a while," he chuckles, once again scooting closer as until he's inches away from my face. "Until I knew that I was leaving."

"Why did it stop?" I frown. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because, Grace," his face softens as he sees how upset I am. "That would have been cruel."

"Cruel?" I repeat. "What does that mean?"

"You were still trying to figure yourself out, and telling you something like that would have been so mean. And I leave soon." He shakes his head. "But I wanted it. I wanted it so, so bad."

"We have until January," I look up at him. "You can be mine until January."

"What good is that?" He looks down at me. "That'll only tear us both apart."

"It'd be worth it," I frown, tears in my eyes as I bring myself closer to him. I place my hand on his cheek, gently moving my hand down his face until it rests under his chin. He closes his eyes as he feels my loving touch. And for a moment, I watch how he leans into my touch. Like always, he enjoys it. "Don't you think it'd be worth it, Luke?"

"Grace," he says quietly, and the moment we both had created ends suddenly. He takes my hand and gently moves it back. He looks at me with his eyes fluttering open, the bloodshot in his eyes glittering with tears as he breaks me into pieces. "I love you. But I can't." 

"I'm sorry," I whisper, once again scooting back from where I sit. "You're right. I'm sorry." 

"Don't be sorry, I'm sorry," he watches me as I lay back down. "I'm sorry I can't love you the way you deserve to be loved." 

"It's okay," I say warmly despite the tears that keep wrapping it's strong hand around my throat. "It's okay. I'm just tired." 

And I turn with my back to him, fighting the tears until I fall victim to the high that cradles me to sleep. And as I close my eyes, I pray to god that it'll all be okay when I wake up in the morning. I pray that I had just let him be, and that the moment I had just attempted to create had never happened in the first place.