"...You won’t even remember that you even loved me so much, or that you even needed me at all."
I had finished speaking. I knew that none it shouldn't of had been said, but had to be. The silence between us was thick- grimy even. It was like I was drowning without water. I had always been good at that. I had always been good at feeling alone among a million of people. Or feeling like no one cared when I was in a room full of people who would throw their self in front of me in a bullet was ever directed in my direction.
I was so terribly great at wanting to die.
"But darling," Luke started, glancing over at me.
I could see the anger that had sparked up in his blue eyes. It wasn't like some deeper blue had arrived in his ocean blue eyes. It was more than that, actually. It was the way his pupils dilated at the sound of my negative words. It was the way his jaw line stiffened whenever the words of poison left my lips. It was the way I became deathly afraid of this Luke because of the way he fought. The way he didn't think about what he was saying- so you knew it was all true. I was scared of the angry Luke Hemmings, but that didn't mean that I still didn't provoke that side of him.
"Don't give up, because we all know you can do this." The boy told me, looking towards me. "I can help you- even if it is only for now. Why won’t you let me?"
His voice was not only a plea- but a begging. A begging for some kind of acknowledge meant that I knew what he was getting at. That I knew that everything would get better. Than everything would just be sunshiny, like I didn't have a reason not to get better.
"Because it's awfully hard to fix someone if you don't know why they're broken."
"Then why are you broken?! What the fuck can I do to fix all of this?!" His anger began to gather in one place.
"Well, don't yell at me!" I bit back most of the mean comments I had ready to boil up inside me.
His hands hit against the steering wheel with a hard thud. I flinched a little, not wishing for a meet with his hand against my cheek. I knew he wouldn't- but I always feared. As the words between us were being over thought in my mind Luke opened his mouth.
Luke was silent for the longest time, enough to see through my fuzzing vision that we had pulled into our driveway. I was about to leave, when he grabbed my arm, making me stay.
"Wait," He told me, his blue eyes looking me in the eye. "What do you think about suicide?"
"What do I think?" I murmured softly, then glanced back up at his eyes. "I think about how great it must be to feel all the pain all at once then, never again."
He nodded thoughtfully, letting my arm go. I knew that if I had any chance of getting better, I had to speak the truth. Besides, that's what Luke wanted, right? He wanted me to be completely and fully truthful. Or did he? He didn't know what he was getting himself into. Being in my mind was almost exactly like being in the center of hell. If I always told him the truth, he'd begin to get scared. All of his good feelings toward me, if there were any left, would disappear. I couldn't have that, though. I needed him.
I walked up the stairs, contemplating whether I should be so open with him. I knew it'd be helpful, but if he didn't like the fact that I was messed up, it would be no help at all. I walked into our bedroom, rummaging through my closet for something causal, but fancy at the same time. I didn't want to get all fancied up for something that was basically skinny jeans and t shirt. But, I had a strong hunch that most of the girls would be prettied up. I picked out a dress, and a thick coat with a pair of shoes I had bought a few years ago.
I set the clothes out on the bed, then stripped down. I wrapped a towel around my chest, getting ready to head into the shower. As I was about to enter the bathroom, Luke appeared in the bedroom. He looked at me a moment, before sending a light smile. I could tell that he tried not to act like I had hurt him; but I knew I had. I lingered near the entrance, biting my lip.
"Lately.. uhh, I haven't been feeling well and I'm sorry if I don't smile as much. I'm sorry if my words hurt a bit more. I'm sorry if you don't like how I do things, and I'm sorry if instead of hurting myself the way I usually do- I am hurting you instead. I'm just sorry, okay?"
I walked into the bathroom, hoping there would be no hard feelings. I ran a few fingers through my hair, glancing up as Luke entered the bathroom. I smiled, seeing the dimples in his cheeks start to show. A warm feeling bubbled up from my stomach, warming my cheeks.
His hand moved around his clothing, taking each part and throwing it onto the floor. We began to repeat what happened this morning, expect the warm feeling he gave me spiked to a higher level. His toned body pushed me against the wall, his fingers gently ghosting on the curve of my thighs.
I was once burned by a flame so intense, that I lost my ability to feel.
His skin burns red hot when it touches mine, but he is a flame that I would let caress me any day. The words to describe Luke and I's love are written on the walls of my heart. In our own special language, that only we can understand because only we can understand and describe our love.
I sat on the bathroom counter, a black towel wrapped around my chest and a hair dryer in my other hand. Luke just shook out his hair and went to get dressed. I sat for a good fifteen minutes blow drying my hair. Then, I applied mascara and eyeliner; nothing too fancy. I did my hair in a braid around my head, then changed into a cream lace dress. ( outfit )
"Luke?" I called out, wondering where he could have gone off to.
When I got no response, I shrugged it off. I looked at myself in the mirror, wondering if it covered up enough skin. I didn't want to be targeted as Luke's little whore. It might be a flattering thought if you think about it. Though, it wasn't the look I was going for. I wanted to stay out of the press at all costs.
"Luke?" I called once again, getting agitated that I hadn't heard from him in such a long time. I walked out of our bedroom, sighing lightly. "Luke we have to go soon, where the fuck are you?"
I walked down the stairs, buttoning up my coat. As I turned the corner, a hand slapped over my mouth. I screamed, internally, not really fighting it.
"Whoa don't kill me there," Luke laughed sarcastically.
I elbowed him in the cut, pushing him away. "You dick," I growled, pouting.
"Baaaby," he whined, kissing my nose lightly.
We stood there a moment, our bodies as close as they were in the shower. "I love you," I whispered, glancing up at him.
"Y'know... there was something I never told you."
"You were always pretty to me; ever since I spilled that Starbucks all over you," he chuckled softly, moving a piece of hair behind me ear. "But some time along the way... you changed. You weren't pretty anymore. You were pretty until I saw the way your eyes swelled when you cried, and you were pretty until I heard how you stutter your goodbyes. You were pretty until I saw the way you lock your doors at night, and you were pretty until I knew you never felt quite right. You were pretty until I heard your heart's empty plea- but then you weren't pretty anymore.
"You were beautiful to me."
"Luke," I laughed softly, trying to show him that I didn't really believe him.
"Ariana," He said, taking my wrists. "I tell you over and over how beautiful you are- that you're the only light I've known in all of this darkness. Why the hell don't you believe me?!"
"It's hard to believe something that you spent your whole life believing the exact opposite."
"But I prove it to you, time and time again. You're so fucking ridiculous!" he began to scream, scaring me.
"It's not like I actually ask you to prove it to me, or ask you to tell me. I don't fucking grovel at your knees for compliments. I don't ask for anything! It's like if someone walked up to you and told you God wasn't real, would you believe it?" I cried out, trying to contain myself. I couldn't cry in front of him, he'd only put off the things that needed to be spoken.
"You know, Ariana, I care about you. I sincerely do. But I think that this is becoming too much. I think that the break we were going to take- well, it should have happened. But guess what? We didn't. You want to know why?
"It's because I found your Goddamn body passed out on the floor. I saw a pool of blood start to fill the floor that used to be your bathroom. I saw a girl that I did not recognize. I saw a monster. Why do you do this to yourself? Why in the world would you hurt the thing that is keeping you living? And I don't know why you have this fucking obsession with suicide. I don't know why you insi-"
"SHUT UP!" I screamed, pushing his chest back into the wall.
Luke's hands pushed me back, making me stumble back. My temple hit the side of the table, sending a throbbing pain shoot through me. I stayed on the floor, feeling myself beginning to shake. It started from my core, soon making my hand rattle with fear. I didn't feel like crying, though. Luke lowered himself to the floor. I saw his mouth moving, but no noise. I saw the regret flash across his facial features. I didn't blame him. I didn't think he was a jerk, or some big abusive boyfriend. Because, he wasn't. I immediately forgave him, I never blamed him in the first place.
His lips bruised my neck, his fingers burnt my skin; and his words broke my heart.