psychotic // l.h.

18 - sandwiches

Hey! So my exams are over and I thought I would post this short chapter to set up for the next one which is gonna be pretty big so emotionally perpare yourself. I'm sorry for talking so long but I just needed a break and some time to think things over. Love you so much and thank you for continueing to support this story.

Big thanks to Sam for editing!

xx-Em

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“Honey, is it ok if I move you up to the bedroom? I just don’t think this is the most… comfortable spot to be.” Luke asked as he circles on my shoulder, his breath brushed over my ear. I was clinging to Ashton's bloody torso and the shirt hugging his waist, I loved him, he was what snapped me out of my daze right when I was finding myself falling for Luke.

I allowed myself to be pulled to my feet by Luke, him half carrying me up to his room.

I decided on staying in his room for the rest of the day, burying my head into my knees, too afraid to look at his version of my face that he had scrawled across the white walls. I was sitting there for hours, not looking up until I couldn’t resist the temptation to look up at my hands. I stared at Ashton’s now dried brown blood that covered my hands, staining the skin to the point where it would take forever to scrub off. I couldn’t bring myself to get up to wash it, I didn’t want to get up from my safe spot on the bed. As I stayed and stared at the blood of the man I once loved, it was only reminder of what I had just lost. There was this feeling tearing inside me, almost threatening to break free.

That's when it all became clear, I knew what I had to do.

I had to get rid of Luke. If he wasn’t letting me out, I was going to make sure he didn’t have a choice.

This thought was the only thing that spurred me to get out of bed, the only thing that made me move away and stop staring as Ashton’s blood.

“Luke?” I called innocently through the house and walked down the stairs, slowly and cautiously.

I reached the end of the stairs to find that Ashton’s body was gone and all that was left was Luke, scrubbing at the red stained wood floor. He looked up from the floor and gave me a sickly sweet smile.

I felt my stomach churn as I watched him smile up at me while cleaning Ashton’s blood of the floor.

“What can I do for you, darling?” He asked, standing up brushing the excess soap off his jean overalls.

“Oh, um, I was just wondering what we were doing for lunch today…” I replied, just able to contain my emotions and not break down crying. Those acting classes my mother put me through as a child were about to pay off.

“Well, I was thinking that maybe I could take you on a picnic, I know this lovely little meadow like field where we could go.” Luke said ecstatically, a bubbly tone in his voice that any normal person wouldn’t expect someone to have after killing someone. But I never knew what to expect with Luke, so it didn’t faze me much.

“Yep, sounds good. You want me to get started on the sandwiches?” I asked and looked away from the floor.

“That would be wonderful, honey.” Luke said, and continued scrubbing at the floor. I felt like throwing up, but I contained myself and made my way to the kitchen. I made the sandwiches, after scrubbing my hands so hard that they were raw and pink.

“Those look great, sweetheart.” He said, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me into him. I flinched, remember the way his arm was wrapped around my neck a few hours ago, threatening to kill me.

Luke sighed from behind me, his hands delicately running over my stomach and hips.

“You know, I wasn’t going to hurt you. I was bluffing, honestly. I just couldn’t stand the thought of you being ripped away from me.” Luke whispered into my hair and kissed right behind my ear.

“Ok.”

“Ok? That’s it? Wow, I thought you were going to need a lot more convincing than that.” He said, resting his chin on my head.

“Nope, I love you, Luke. And I trust you.” I lied, leaning back into him and putting the sandwiches into ziploc bags.

“I’m so glad you feel that way. I love you.” He said, turning me to face him and looking me in the eyes. I smiled up at him as hard as I could and he smiled back.

I knew he couldn’t help who he had become, I knew all he wanted was someone to love and protect. Though I also knew there was no room for sympathy, I had to get away. And that’s why when I slid the knife into the picnic basket I felt no remorse. We set off on our way to the lovely little meadow, my final hope. Where Luke would be hurt for the last time, ever.