twenty three

It's not that late when Luke comes knocking on my hotel door, we've only been back at the hotel for half an hour or so. I know what it's for. He's lonely and I'm an open pair of ears. He likes to talk, and it's kind of my job to listen.

I can write about it until he says the words 'this is off record'. There's so much I want to write about, there's so much I want to analyze. I can't, though.

Luke is a mysterious person. I don't know how else to describe it. I don't understand him and that frustrates me. I want to read him like a book and he won't let me. Since day one, I've wanted to crack him open and simply learn everything about him.

He's a mystery. Maybe somethings are meant to be left unsaid, unsolved.

He needs a friend, though, and that's why I open up the door a few minutes past midnight. Luke slides past me, his head down.

"I want someone to talk to," he says. I'm obviously not surprised. I predict the moves here.

I close my hotel door behind him, locking it up. He's probably going to stay the night, sneak out when he wakes up around 7. "I'm here to listen."

Luke is curled up in my sheets, taking the blankets and wrapping around his shoulders. He was already buried in an oversized sweater, his face flushed with warmth.

I laid down next to him, trying not to sink the mattress too much as I crawled closer. I let him have the blankets, not wanting to disturb his cocooning. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Are you feeling alright?" were four simple words put together into a question. Those four simple words formed such a complex question. There were so many answers to those four words, most of them lies.

He could say he's fine, but he knows I won't accept that.

Luke shrugged as he swallowed a lump in his throat. "I don't know what I'm feeling," he said, "I just don't want to be alone right now."

"Did you have a long day?"

"Everyday is long. I've been up since fucking 6 in the morning." Luke breathed a sigh, stretching out from his cocoon and lying on his back.

He brought a hand up to his face, his fingers squeezing at the bridge of his nose. His eyes remained closed as his chest rose and fell with steady breaths.

"How're you feeling, Michael? Why don't I get to ask the questions?" Luke turned his head, finally opening his eyes and gazing in my direction.

He wasn't high, but I don't know if he was 100 percent sober. His blue hues were a little glassy, but not in an I-just-smoked-a-joint kind of way. It was more of an I'm-sad-and-needy type of way, like a desperate puppy.

"I'm doing fine, happy to be alive. Are you?"

"Stop turning this to me."

I watched a smile crawl up his lips the tiniest bit, I liked making him smile. I like making everyone smile but I love making Luke smile. I like to think I'm helping the world in a way. Making him happy is making flowers grow. Making him happy is watching water flow down a river. Making him happy makes me happier.

"I wanna see some lights in your eyes." I reached up my hand slowly, resting my hand upon his cheekbone. My thumb ran across the bone as he looked up at me, not saying anything.

"You make me want to confess all my sins," he said, "I feel like I can't lie to you."

I looked at him and he looked at me and everything felt wonderful. "Then don't lie to me."

He got up, crawling over to my body. Luke straddled my waist as he brought the blankets over with him. Suddenly everything was warm with a pretty boy on my hips and three layers of blankets covering our lower third. "I like lying," he admitted in a low tone, "that could easily be a lie, though."

I wanted him to get all deep and psychological with me, but not like this. I could get into his head and I'm pretty sure he was getting into mine. This was reverse psychology and I wasn't enjoying it.

Luke rested his hands on my chest when I didn't respond. "Is this alright?" He stayed quiet, sounding as if he was afraid to speak louder than a whisper.

"I think so."

He repositioned himself, getting lower until I could feel his breath against my lips. He leant down, his warm lips on my own. I didn't pull back, I wasn't planning on.

My hands crawled up his back, gripping his ribs. My nails dug into his skin and the smallest of a whimper fell from Luke's throat.

I could feel him smile into our kiss, he was the cockiest bitch I've ever met.

I couldn't write about this, and suddenly I felt guilty. I came here for my work and I'm screwing around. If I couldn't tell Jack about it, then it shouldn't be happening.

My hands left his back and went to his chest, nudging him away. "This isn't who I am, Luke," I said, my soft voice matching his own.

He licked over his lips, his dead eyes finding way to mine. "I could make this who you are." Luke's hands were on my mouth, soon replacing his fingertips with his lips.

I didn't stop this time.

I like attention and I like feeling wanted.

We all have our flaws and maybe this one is mine.

What're your thoughts? We're about half way through now.