laconic ↦ luke hemmings {au}

six: beating

CHAPTER SIX:

| luke's pov |

In a blink of an eye, I was back in "my" house. I hadn't been fully aware of how terrified I was of returning to this place until only an hour or two ago, when I had been given a beating, care of some man Vicky had gotten from who knows where. She was watching the whole scene unfold before her eyes, with a small pout playing on her lips.

"Naughty boys should be punished," she reasoned out, running a hand through my hair. "Vicky's sorry." She kissed the top of my forehead, which was dripping with sweat from how long my agony was at the basement of her home.

If only I had the power to push her away, I would have done it, but from all the cuts and bruises scattered around my body, it was impossible. I was limp, and I had never received this kind of treatment before from Vicky. She was definitely upset with my running away.

Vicky pat my cheek a few times before standing up and handing the guy who had thrashed me an envelope, which, most likely, had money. She spared me one last glance and a smirk before going up the stairs to wherever.

As the hatred for her inside me built up, the terror did, too. The things she was capable of doing was becoming alarming - just how did she do all of this?

"Hey, man. Sorry," the guy, who had been silent the whole time, apologized, offering me a hand. "I needed the money."

Looking up at him with a blank expression, I made no move to take his hand. My upper half hurt too much, and after all the things I've been through, I wasn't too comfortable trusting anybody - let alone, strangers.

He sighed and placed his hands in his pockets. "The name's Ash. Yours?" He sat beside me as I felt dizzy from the pain all over my body. My vision was blurring already, but I could still understand what he had told me.

"Luke," I mumbled, weakly. My throat was dry from all the shouting I had done earlier, and it would be an understatement to say that I was almost drained from all my energy.

I might as well be called "dead."

He hummed happily from my reply and proceeded to speak, "You know, Luke, that grandma's obsessed with you. I'm actually scared of her. Like, she's a hundred years old, and you're... well, a teenager. That's some creepy shit right there."

I chose not to comment on his words, partly because I was too feeble right now to actually muster a whole sentence and also because I hadn't thought of what to say since it was true, for the most part. I knew he was just trying to lighten the mood with his "joke," so I felt a little bit relaxed with him.

It's been a while since I've actually heard anything comical.

Ash tossed me the jacket he had been wearing, and that's when I noticed how bare I actually was. My shirt was taken off before I had been battered, and my jeans were literally tearing apart.

"Anyway, I have to go. The old lady gave me instructions to let you stay here... well, it's not like you can walk, right?" He laughed, amused, but cleared his throat once realizing his words. "Oh, sorry. I'm a little... insensitive."

I gave him a small smile and muttered, "It's... okay." I coughed a little, feeling the disgusting taste of blood in my mouth. I wiped the liquid on my lips with the back of my hand.

He grinned. "You're a nice lad, Luke." Ash stood up and looked down at me; his expression was, now, somewhat sympathetic. "See you. I'll try to drop by from time to time."

This would probably be the last I'll see of him. It was impossible; he wouldn't be able to come back. I shook my head from his statement and closed my eyes, feeling the little bit of strength I had disappear.

"I'll be back. I promise."

author's note: i am the worst at updating i literally am so sorry but i love you all thank you so much for everything