laconic ↦ luke hemmings {au}

one: powerless

CHAPTER ONE:

| luke's pov |

"You're not alone," she whispered in my ear, a shiver running down my spine. The sweat dripping from my forehead disappeared, as if it was wiped away. I felt an arm wrap around my waist.

"I am," I persisted, choosing not to talk too much. The more I talked, the less sane I became. But the more silent it was, the more I think. The more I think, the more I get haunted.

The door swung open, just in time, and I looked up to find Vicky with a tray in her hands. I would have preferred to have been by myself than have her here with me.

She smiled, sitting beside me on the bed. "It's dinnertime! Eat up, Lucas." She placed the plates of food in front of me, her eyes never leaving mine. "Oh, how I love your name."

I didn't respond, and I just began to eat. Small bites– that was all I could manage.

Her stare disturbed me and slowly made me lose my appetite, but I forced the food down. Emma wouldn't like me like this; she'd want me to eat well. She always wanted what was best for me, but I couldn't do the same for her. I was always afraid. Because of that, I lost her. I lost her forever.

The spoon was taken from me, and Vicky still had that grin on her face as she took a spoonful of rice. I fought the urge to slap it away from her hold because she might hurt me, and that's the least of Emma's wishes, if she was still here.

"Let me feed you," she told me, trying to imitate that of a teenager's voice. I wasn't appreciating what she was doing, but what was I to do? I couldn't do anything then; I couldn't do anything now.

A child's replica of a train's sound was the next thing I heard, and I found the spoon near my mouth.

"Open up!"

I didn't. I can't believe I was being treated like a lover, then a child.

"Lucas," she warned, her tone taking a dark turn. The events from the night Emma died came rushing in.

She killed her.

She killed her.

She killed her.

Out of fear, I did as she asked me to. Until now, I was powerless, and I hated it so much.

Vicky went back to her happy self again, and she put the spoon in her own mouth. I felt the need to vomit; why would she do that? Was she that crazy?

"Delicious," she murmured in my ear. The plates were gone from the bed and were broken, on the floor. She pushed me back on the bed, and my hands started to shake.

"No, no, no," I whispered to no avail, but of course, it had no effect. She just kept on going. Her lips were on mine, and the cold air hit me.

I wanted to push her away, but I was numb.

Author's Note: don't hate me omg but hey it's an update