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“Luke, come here.” Luke walked over to me, and since I was still sitting, I had to look up at him to meet his eyes. “Do you want to sleep here tonight?”
I could see it in his eyes that he did, but he didn’t know how to ask. Sometimes, he was so sweet and cheerful, and then there were times like this, when he was vulnerable and unsure. I wanted nothing more than to pull him in beside me and hold him close as he slept.
I shuffled backward before patting the bed. “You can sleep here, if you want.”
His eyes widened a bit, and I realized he might be uncomfortable sharing a bed, even if he did trust me.
“Or you can take the bed, and I’ll sleep on the couch,” I told him, pointing to the small couch that we both knew I wouldn’t fit in.
“N-no, it’s okay. I should…” He waved towards the doorway and tried to step back, but I grabbed his hand before he could.
“Luke, you trust me, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you think I’d do anything that makes you uncomfortable or try to hurt you in any way?”
“Of course not.”
“Then come here and sleep on the bed with me. I’d like to hold you but only if you want me to.”
He stared at me for a moment before climbing into the bed. Carefully, he placed Tressa between our pillows, and she meowed in thanks before burying her face into the pillows and escaping into dreamland. I envied cats’ ability to fall asleep whenever they wanted to.
Luke lay down on the bed, and I could tell he was stiff as a board. “Should I leave the lights on?”
“No, it’s okay,” Luke said softly, and I leaned over him to turn off the lamp. Once I was lying down again, I placed my hand in the middle of the bed, palm up, and closed my eyes.
It was a few minutes before Luke placed his hand in mine, and I smiled before squeezing it softly. Just like that night at the cabin, I fell into a deep sleep with Luke beside me.
Over the course of the next couple of weeks, Luke pretty much moved into my room. For the first few days, he’d climb into my bed after a nightmare had woken him, but after that, I managed to convince him to just come to bed with me. We’d still fall asleep holding hands, but every time I woke, I’d find Luke curled up against me with his head on my chest. Sleeping with me seemed to help him calm down when he woke up, but the nightmares were still there, and I hated watching him feel so much pain night after night. And on the bad days, the nightmares seemed to bring forth horrible memories too. He’d ended up puking his dinner into the toilet more than a few times. I wanted to help him get better, but I wasn’t sure how. I’d talked to Mike about it a couple of times, just telling him that Luke had nightmares a lot. He’d told me that seeing a therapist might help, and I’d realized he was right. Now I just needed to bring it up to Luke without him taking it the wrong way, which seemed like a monumental task all on its own. I looked up at him as he sat across from me at the table, sipping his coffee.
Chewing my lip, I asked Luke, “Do you think seeing someone would help with the nightmares?”
He looked up at me with a raised brow, and I clarified, “A therapist, I mean.”
Luke’s fingers tightened around his mug instantly, and he looked away from me, his jaw locking and his whole body stiffening as if he was steeling himself for a fight. “I don’t want to see a therapist.”
“But—”
“Drop it, Scott.” He was up and dumping his coffee into the sink and out of the room before I could say another word. The door to his room—the room he’d barely been in for more than ten minutes for the past couple of weeks—slammed shut, and I slumped into my seat, startled at his abrupt exit. I'd never seen Luke so…angry before. The closest I could remember was the day he'd asked me what I wanted from him, back when we'd just started to get along. We were so much closer now, weren't we? Or had I crossed some arbitrary line I should've stayed away from?
All I wanted was for Luke to be free of his past, of the pain his memories carried. Was I wrong?
When he walked out of his room ten minutes later, dressed for work, I was still sitting in the chair. I quickly stood up and walked over to him. He stopped walking toward the door but wouldn’t look at me as he shuffled his feet.
“Luke, I didn’t mean to upset you. I just want to help you get better, that’s all. I—”
“I should’ve known,” Luke whispered, cutting me off. He looked up at me then, and his eyes were dark and smoky and full of tears as he glared at me. “I’m not your pet project, Scott. You can’t make me better. You can’t—”
I opened my mouth to interrupt, but he kept talking. “You can’t heal me. You can’t. I’m—I’m broken and fucked up, andI know it.And I told you I was. I told you before—before we started this. If you can’t deal with it, deal withme,then I’ll move back to my room. Hell, I’ll move out of this house if that’s what you want. I amnotyour charity case. You can’t make me all better, Scott. You—”
“Goddammit, Luke!” I snapped to stop him from spouting more bullshit. I regretted shouting immediately, but the damage was already done. Luke jerked away from me, his hand raising up as if to shield his face. The reaction made me freeze, and that was all the time Luke needed to rush out of the door.
“Shit!” I cursed before racing after him.
“Luke, wait!” I called as he ran down the hallway toward the elevator. I caught up to him just before he pressed the button to call the lift and grabbed his arm. It was like he gave up the moment I touched him because it was all I could do not to tumble to the floor as he slumped forward as if he’d lost all control of his body.
I let him sit down before falling to my knees before him. I tried to touch his arm, but he shied away from me, shuffling backward until he was pressed against the hallway wall. I didn’t try to touch him again, but I moved just a bit closer.
