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"NOW, WHAT the hell made you change your hair color?" Luka questioned. His voice was filled with disbelief as he took a seat across from me, and neatly folded the ends of his dress shirt.
I blinked, "I haven't changed it that much. It's still on the red spectrum." I grunted under my breath and I caught Luka rolling his eyes.
"Yes, roll them further back, you might find a brain back there."
He flipped me off.
I changed from a fiery red to a ginger shade of red. Whenever nightmares returned, my hair suffered the consequences. It was because of how much he liked my hair that I never had it dyed black again, but I always felt the inside of me about to burst if I didn't change something about it.
Luka was silent for a few seconds, "The nightmares, they're back, aren't they?"
I nodded with a sad smile, "Don't worry, though. He is locked away and can't hurt me anymore."
"Are you sure about that?" He asked, "because you're shaking at the mention of his existence. I cannot imagine what it would be like if I said his name out loud. When was the last time you went to your therapist?"
I remained quiet. Luka had the best intentions at heart, and all that this was, was a way of him showing how worried he was. And, as much as I wanted to lie to myself that there was nothing to be worried about, I was, deeply inside, still as petrified as I was all those years ago.
I tried to push the thoughts to the back of my mind, yet they always seemed to find a way back in, to crawl into the depth of my consciousness and gain total control.
It was a scary experience.
An experience I've had to live through.
''Listen, Luka.'' I bit my bottom lip and tried to figure out what was the best way to ask for his help. He would do it, without blinking, it was just that I didn't want to start relying on other people to help me, just when I'd gotten stronger and when I was finally okay with being capable of doing things by myself.
Luka chuckled, to himself, ''Don't worry, Freya. I got you covered. I'll check what's going on in prison and see if any of the inmates talk.''
I smiled, ''Thank you.''
I looked at Luka. His usual hairstyle was with his curly hair down, yet now, he had put it into a man bun with two front strands falling down his cheek. He looked good with this hairstyle. Then, my eyes wandered down to his neck and I was shocked, to say the least.
''What the hell is that?'' Eyes glued to the hickey on his neck, yet the widest grin tugged on the corner of my lips.
Luka was confused, ''What?''
I brought my eyes up to meet his and gave him a slight smirk, ''The love bite.''
''Damnit,'' Luka cussed out as he tried to adjust the collar of his shirt and bring it further against his neck, ''I didn't even realize.''
