5 Seconds Of Summer Imagines

Luke Imagine

You've both been arguing for an hour or two by now. You're mentally, physically and emotionally exhausted waiting for the argument to finish. The reason as to why this started in the first place, is a complete blur to you. The pair of you never argue, but the air has been tense around you for the past week and it just escalated from nothing.

"Fuck!"

Luke's voice snaps you out of your reverie and the vein throbbing in his neck hits home as to how big of a deal this argument is. This could severe the ties you have with each other. Something you definitely don't want.

"Luke," you quietly whisper, but his angry voice is bouncing from the walls, "Please, stop, I don't want to fight."

"Well, Y/N, it's a little too fucking late for that, isn't it?!" he screams at you, causing you to shrink against the wall for protection.

Most people would leave, get out of there whilst they can, but you don't want to leave the boy that you love. Even if he is a raging, hot mess.

"I hate this." He groans, fisting at his hair and you quietly respond.

"So do I. I don't like us arguing."

"Not that! Jesus, it's not all about you, you know?" the way his voice fluctuates from quiet to loud, soft to angry, causes you to feel fear for someone you love. "I hate us. I'm miserable. I can't cope with it all."

"Don't say that." You pluck up the courage to finally pitch in something, reason with him as to what his actual problem is.

"Why not? Are you happy? Can you look me in the eye and tell me you're happy with me in this state?"

"Not this state, no-"

"Exactly."

"But when you're not angry, then I can say I'm happy when I'm with you. I love you, Luke. We never fight-"

"Then what the hell are we doing now!"

He moves closer to your face as he shouts, his demeanour threatening and his arm in the air as if he will get physical. Shrink back against the wall and closing your eyes, tears fall from closed lids and you whimper a no under your breath.

But the blow never comes.

Slowly opening your eyes, Luke is stood a few feet away from you with his arms by his side and a pained look of anguish across his face, his blue eyes glossy with unshed tears. He looks between his hands, which are now outstretched in front of him, and up at you as if he is only just figuring out what he almost did.

"No," he visibly begins to shake, dropping to his knees and sobbing uncontrollably into his hands, "No. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. No."

Even with fear settled deep within you, you slowly force yourself away from the wall and towards the heartbroken boy on the floor in front of you. Kneeling down next to him, you cautiously touch his shoulder with your hand, causing him to take a shaky breath and look up at you through blood shot red eyes.

"I hate myself," raising a hand to his cheek, you wipe away his tears as they continuously fall, "I didn't mean I hated us, I was angry, I'm sorry."

"Shh, I know." You pull him into a hug against your chest, holding him in place as he clings onto your body. It's then, that you realise, he is his own worst enemy and you need to protect him from himself.