CALUM

Luke doesn't speak for the entire ride home.

I know better than to interfere when Luke is angry, which he most certainly is, so I resign to staring out the window and replaying the look on Ashton's face as the car pulled away over and over again. There were a thousand different emotions in his big hazel eyes, and I could count each and every one of them as though they were displayed right in front of me like ink on paper. Hurt, definitely one of them. Concern, anger, shock, et cetera. The biggest emotion was definitely concern, although I sure hope Luke isn't angry enough to make his worry worthwhile.

For the first time in as long as I can remember, this is the first time that I've actually felt a bit of anger at Luke. I'm frustrated at how he reacts to things that I do if I don't have his permission doing them. It makes me feel like I'm a string puppet and he's constructing every move I make. I don't know if it's because Ashton was involved or if it's because I feel like a professional boxer has punched me straight up in the face, but this time, I wasn't on Luke's side.

I would have much rather stayed with Ashton at the restaurant and listen to music with him in his old, beat up car and relish in his carefree laugh, but that's not how my life works. I'm with Luke, and that's just how it is. It's how it's always been.

When we get home, Luke continues his silent treatment, stalking inside and hanging his coat on the rack by the door. I follow him silently, not knowing what to say or how to bring up the situation that just happened, but Luke doesn't seem to want to talk about it. It actually scares me a little, the utter calmness of his movements, the gentle expression he wears. I can tell he's angry, simply because I've known him for so long, but he's hiding it. I can't, for the life of me, figure out why.

Normally Luke gives me a solid beating if something happens, and then that's that. Situation handled, conflict over. But this time he's holding off, and it sets me on edge. I'm waiting for his hands to shove me against the wall and knock my teeth out, but it doesn't seem to come. It's very unlike him.

Luke starts to make dinner. He sets out two plates and expertly begins preparing, turning on the stove and setting up a skillet. He watches me out of the corner of his eye as he does, furrowing his eyebrows just the tiniest bit at how I'm still just standing there, waiting for him to blow.

"Sit down, babe," Luke says, so I do. He continues cooking, rolling up the sleeves of his white button-up as to not get anything dirty. The watch clasped on his left wrist glints under the flourescent lighting of the kitchen. "How are you feeling?"

I'm not sure what the right thing to say is. "Sick."

Luke chuckles, grabbing a spoon from the cabinet and using it to mix something in a bowl. "I sort of got that already."

"Um," I say, and try to think of what he might want to hear. "I feel a bit feverish. I have a runny nose, and-- everything sort of aches."

Luke's smile has faded. "The flu, huh?" I stay quiet, figuring he doesn't mean this as an actual question. He doesn't turn around, but I can see the muscles in his arm tighten through the thin fabric of his shirt, and his knuckles turn white on the grip he has on the spoon.

"Listen up, babe," Luke begins, and my heart sinks into my stomach, making my head spin. Something in the cadence of his voice has changed, as though he's trying not to turn around and knock me out cold. "I'm shocked that you had the audacity to do what you did today. Leaving with some co worker and going to the hospital? Without bothering to even call me and tell me what you were doing?"

I don't bother telling him that he wouldn't have let me go even if I did all the stuff. He probably just would have scolded me through the phone and disregarded his plans to pick me up early. But I stay silent.

"To be honest, Calum, I'm absolutely furious. I'm just as furious at you as I am that Ashton guy." Luke says Ashton's name with venom in his voice, and I'm thankful the curly haired boy isn't around to hear it. Luke's voice could put poison in his veins. "I don't know who he thinks he is, but I've made my decision."

My blood turns to ice. "What decision?"

Luke turns around then, and I can see the pure anger in his eyes, something I failed to notice behind his gentle body language. He walks over and leans against the counter, towering over me as his cold eyes stare down at me, heartbreakingly familiar. "You are not allowed to talk to him anymore. I don't want you looking at him, touching him, nothing. You will be strictly co-workers, and that is all. No trips here and there, nothing. I'm furious I even have to have this conversation."

Luke finishes cooking, making both of our plates and rounding the kitchen counter, heading to the table. I watch him helplessly as he does. His words set a brick in my stomach, and I can't imagine going to work and not talking to him. He's the one nice employee in that entire building, he's all I got inside those walls.

Luke notices my silence, and he narrows his eyes at me dangerously. "I think you've gotten ahead of yourself here." Luke crosses the kitchen and grips my jaw tightly in his hand, his grip strong enough to make the edges of my gums bleed. His nails dig into my skin and a flash of pain spikes through my jaw, making tears prick at my eyes. "Have you forgotten who exactly you belong to, babe? Don't you dare think that Ashton cares in any way for you. Nobody will love you the way I do. I think your family sets a pretty fair example of that."

His voice is sugary sweet, dripping with mockery. My jaw starts to ache at the strong hold he has on it, and a few tears slip down my cheeks and fall onto his hand. Luke releases me and wipes his hand on his shirt in disgust, his eyes narrowed at me as he heads back to the table.

"Sit," he says, so I slide into the chair beside him and pick at the food on the plate, trying to stop the tears from spilling down my face but for whatever reason, they're not stopping. I suppose it's the buildup of stress from today and the pure shittyness I feel from the flu and the heartless looks Luke keeps sending my way, but the tears are in no way ceasing, which Luke soon realizes. He clenches his a jaw and slams a fist down on the table, closer to my plate than his, and the table shakes.

"Stop crying," Luke says, and I avoid his gaze, blinking at my feet to try and stop. Luke's voice comes again: "Look at me." So I look up, teary eyes and all because Luke hates it when I don't make eye contact, and I put every last ounce of strength in my body into trying to dry up the tears before Luke gets angry enough. "Stop crying, or I swear to God, I'll make you. Do you understand?"

I nod as fast as I can, my head getting quite dizzy, but it seems to do the trick, as Luke focuses his attention back on his meal, and he picks up his fork and stabs it at his salad.

I do my best to eat the most that I can, but it's hard to get down, what with my choked up throat and uneasy stomach. Luke doesn't say anything else for the rest of the meal, and I can't think of anything else but having to ignore Ashton tomorrow. Because that's what Luke told me to do.

I don't want to do it though. Ashton is the one friend that I've had in years, apart from Luke. Luke kept me away from everyone else, and now he's going to keep me away from Ashton, too. But it's going to be harder considering Ashton probably won't stay away from me, because he doesn't know what Luke said. He'll still greet me the next morning with a bright smile and a friendly eyes, and what will I say back? Nothing?

"Can I please go to bed?" I ask, my voice unsteady. "So I can try and get better?"

Luke gives me a half-hearted nod. "Sure. You're not going to work tomorrow." He pushes his plate away from him, standing up from the table. "Before you go, though, give me your phone. I'm doing a study for work and I need yours to test it out on."

I don't question it, knowing he deals with phone technology plenty at work. I hand him the phone swiftly and Luke takes it with a grin, pocketing it. "Thanks, babe. You can go now."

I've never left the kitchen faster. I hurry up the stairs to our bedroom, bursting through the doors and switching off the lights, plunging the room into darkness. My eyes are still too watery too adjust to the sudden darkness, so I feel my way to the bed and collapse onto it. I only manage to take off my shoes before burrowing underneath the covers, pulling the blankets up over my head and squeezing my eyes shut.

I listen to the steady heartbeat in my chest as I sniff lightly, trying to ignore the pounding in my head. I feel miserable and I'm quite positive that I look miserable, too, and the fact that my entire life seems to be falling apart doesn't help in the least.

At least Luke is still there. He always stays. He's the constant variable in my life, staying no matter how rough things get. Because he loves me, and I love him.

But even as I lay in bed, the one image displaying itself behind my eyes is the look on Ashton's face as we drove away, still permanently etched into my brain. It stays there, long after I hear Luke finish cleaning up and long after I'm too tired to remember what even caused that look on his face, and it stays until I fall asleep.

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A/N: i originally thought the TCA's were on sunday but i was dead wrong its in like over a month lol

so recently i've been trying to learn dutch and it's super fun and i think it's a really cute language. i'm jealous of you netherland people who speak it because i can only speak like really simple sentences lol

if you are one of those people who know like 3 different languages and are completely fluent, then please note that i am immensely jealous of you and will never reach your level of sophistication and intelligence

thanks for reading this! it's short but it sets things up for the next chapter. i hope you liked it. please vote & comment & tell me ur thoughts!

i love you to the moon!

bye