Hold My Hand - Lashton

Chapter Forty-seven

Chapter Forty-seven

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Slowly and silently Luke left his bedroom and made his way down to the kitchen. He felt like a criminal, sneaking around his accommodation trying not to come into contact with anyone. Afraid that anyone he came into contact with would infect him with Ashton. Ashton seemed to be everywhere, even if he was not there.

He was omnipresent. But not like a god. Luke could see no good coming from an encounter with the older boy. Ashton was more like the devil. The serpent. Satan. Any evil force that prevailed into your life and forced you to sin even if you had no intention of doing so. Ashton seeped into the blonde's mind and poisoned it with anger and confusion.

Luke did things he had never done before. He started to yell. He started to slam doors. And he started to act hostile to other people. And he didn't know why he was doing it. He didn't want to do it. Because when he had time to reflect on his actions afterwards he was upset and confused. That's the thing about sin, it clouds your judgement and before you know it you are already committing an evil act.

He knew it was no less of a sin to be sly and manipulative, sneaking around the building. But he thought it better than snapping at other people.

Luke peered into the kitchen and noticed the lights were off. He sighed with relief. That was all he wanted. Was to be alone and not be taunted. He entered the kitchen and flicked on the light, jumping with fright as he saw three people sitting at the table.

The blonde froze in fear and then began to shake his head. Grabbing the door handle again and beginning to yank it open.

"Luke-" Ashton began. "You don't have to leave just because we're in here. It's your kitchen too."

Still shaking his head frantically, his mouth hanging open he stuttered. "No. No, I'll go. You didn't want to be disturbed, the light, that was why it was off."

"Come join us!" a girl spoke up, smiling overbearingly at him. "The more the better. We're going clubbing tonight."

Ashton reached over and took her hand. She looked at him, wondering what she was missing. "It's not really Luke's scene. He doesn't really drink. He's drunk once since he was here and threw up."

The two girls giggled and stared at the blonde curiously. "Still, you could go cold turkey if you like!"

Ashton squeezed her hand once more. Smiling at Luke apologetically. But, Luke wasn't looking at him. His eyes were transfixed on their hands. Was that how their hands look together?

Luke screwed his eyes shut and tried to get the image out of his head. But when he opened them again they were still touching. That used to be his hand. He didn't have that support anymore. He wondered if it meant the same thing. If her hand was softer than his, more fitting.

He found his eyes moving up and down her body. He wasn't judging. There was nothing to judge. Luke thought she was perfect. He couldn't compete with her, she had everything Luke didn't.

"He's very quiet," the girl beside her remarked. "It's cute."

Ashton hummed unconsciously in agreement, too busy watching Luke's reaction. Watching as his eyes inspected the girl. He wondered if she got Luke's approval. The older boy removed his hand from hers and let his curl around her waist.

Luke's eyes followed eagerly, watching her smile at the touch. The sensation he craved so deeply. But his arm fit perfect around her small waist. He was too imperfect for Ashton.

He wanted to leave. To run away. But he didn't want to miss anything either. He needed to know everything that was wrong with him. His breathing grew heavy and loud drowning out their words. Their voices become muffled and painful.