Luke's P.O.V.

I turn the key to start the engine, the soft rumbling tells me I can leave the empty parking lot.

I take a few sharp turns before the car ends up on the highway. A few times I look from my eyecorners to Charlie, she also has her vision straight on the road.

My hands clench around the steering wheel, my knuckles turn white from the pressure.

I refuse to say one single word to her, if she wanted to run away, she'll have to do it with my silence.

A few miles later on the highway, she finally speaks, or slurs, up to me.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Why aren't you speaking to me?"

Still, no word slips from my mouth.

She quickly forgets what she said, the alcohol taking over her body and mind.

Her finger hits the radio button, it softly begins to play a song I've never heard.

She apparently has, she softly sings every word of the pop song.

I never knew she was into pop.

Her mind is completely focused both on the song and on her hair.

She nervously twirls it between her small fingers, braiding and undoing it every now and then.

My eyes are back on the road, it's pretty calm for six in the evening.

Only a few cars on the highway, sometimes a truck.

Eventhough I only walked for an hour to look for her, my legs are pretty numb. I guess I was stressing out a bit too much.

My blood is still boiling from the fact that she was with another guy..

He could've took advantage of her being drunk as fuck, at only three in the afternoon when I found her.

I shake the thought off my mind, I don't want to cause another accident today.

A deep sigh releases itself from my nostrils, snapping Charlie out of her thoughts.

We both remain in silence, both too stubborn to say a word about this situation.

My fingers nervously tap on the steering wheel, trying not to burst out, in tears.

This is a fucked up situation. Charlie is drunk, I'm close to crying and we're now close to my house, fortunately.

I'm wondering how much alcohol she consumed in only two hours or so.

She had her wallet with her, but forgot her cellphone.

Which is kinda weird for her.

Sometimes, I just want to run away from this madness. Not to another city, maybe another country across the world. Probably the United Kingdom if I had to choose.

If I had the chance, I'd immediately pack my stuff and leave it all behind.

But on the otherhand, I don't want to upset my friends, my girlfriend.

If she even considers me as her boyfriend in a situation like this.

...

Before I realise, we've arrived at my home.

The second I shut down the whole system, Charlie shoots out of the car and slams the door.

She stumbles to the front door, waiting for me to open it.

I also get out of my car and fumble with my keys.

She does have an arrogant expression plastered on her face, the faded blue hair making her look like the typical rebelious teenage daughter. Her eyebrow piercing makes the picture complete.

The only thing she'd need is a badass boyfriend in his mid twenties with a heavy motorcycle.

What made her choose for me, eventually?

I quickly open the door, almost running into Charlie, who has her arms crossed over her chest.

Eventhough she's as wasted as possible, she still manages to make my heart skip a beat evertime she stares at me with those brown eyes.

She makes her way to the kitchen, with me slowly following her, tracing every action she does.

She reaches out to the top cabinet, to take out a glass.

Looking around, taking a few steps to her side and opening the right cabinet, she takes out a bottle of liquor.

I mostly use it for some kind of spicy sauce combined with chicken.

The brown orange fluid makes its way out of the glass bottle to the glass.

The moment she places it against her lips, I grisp it out of her hands and throw it up against the wall.

"Enough!" I shout with all the power in my body.

"You've already caused a lot of trouble drinking, fucking underaged! Don't you ever learn from your mistakes?" I throw my hands up in the air, marking out this sticky situation.

"Says Mister Perfect! Oh look at me, being all punk and fucking my girlfriend when I cheated on her while she was at the hospital!" Her voice raises dramaticly at the end of her sentence.

"You don't get it, Charlotte! I was so worried about you. You don't know a single fuck that I give about you, I drove to the middle of nowhere and walked for an hour or more, just to find you being drunk and slunged around some stranger! How do you think that made me feel, huh? Do you really think you're the only one with troubles in this world? Well think again, selfish bitch. You always think nobody cares about you, when in fact this whole scenario runs BECAUSE of you! Everyone was worried sick about you, we thought you tried to kill yourself, again." My voice is becoming louder and louder the more I think about this whole thing. I'm slowly but surely loosing my temper.

"Why did you kissed Rebecca? Behind my back? Were you even planning to tell me?" She asks, the words quickly falling from her mouth.

"I didn't kiss the skank!" I yell, "she did! I was on my way to visit you in the hospital, when she showed up with her little friend. I totally forgot about that, people do forgot sometimes, you know? I'm so done with your stupid shit, you drive me crazy with every single movement you make, even blinking with those stupid eyes of yours makes me want to kiss the hell out of you! And it drives me insane that you don't see all the things I do for you, Charlotte. I stopped cutting for you, Charls, and you kept going on. Why didn't you call me when you felt like killing yourself?" The end of my ramble is slowly going to a sob, my knees are feeling weak and my lower lip begins to tremble, badly.

"Why did you even slam the drink out of my hands?" She on the other hand, is still yelling.

"So suddenly all you care about is liquor? Do you even realise how irresponsible and dangerous your behavior was and maybe is? You could get arrested for drinking underaged, or some dirty old fuck could've taken advantage of your state!" Her ask for liquor makes me scream again, harder than before.

This time it's her turn to loose her temper.

"Would you just listen to yourself? All you are ranting about is how irresponsible I am, and what a bad person I seem to be compared to you! Well I probably am, and I fucking know that, you don't need to point that out every single time! And I also know you have problems too, that doesn't mean I don't care about you if I lose it sometimes! I can't believe how stubborn yóú are for taking this seriously. Sober the fuck up man."

"Oh so Ì need to sober up? Who's the drunk in this conversation?"

"Stop telling me that I'm drunk, do you think I'm that stupid to not get that?"

"Well you sure as hell don't understand what this fight is about." My chest rises and falls heavily, my cheeks puff in annoyance.

"Tell me, tell me what this fight is about!"

"Stop yelling at me! First, I'm trying to point out both our mistakes. Second, I was planning to calm you down but that doesn't really work now, is it? And third is because I fucking love you and I care about you!"

"Oh so you love me? Well I can feel the love thickly in this room, really." She sarcastly remarks.

"You're so stupid, Charls. Stubborn and stupid."

"I could say the same thing of you. Now, I'm going to sleep. On the couch. Goodnight, Luke." She almost whispers, dissapointment mixed with anger clear in her voice.

I don't answer her anymore, I turn on my heel and make my way upstairs.

Maybe some water in my face can wake me up.

I open the bathroom door that is connected with my room.

Hesitantly, I switch on the light, only to see my horrifying reflection in the mirror.

You could say I look like utter shit.

My hair sticks up in every direction, looking really messy.

My eyes are bloodshot, mostly from making myself so angry against her, maybe a few tears slipped when I was shouting.

My whole face has no color, I look pale, almost grey.

Tiredness is also visible in my eyes. They aren't as blue as I remember them to be.

And when I look at my hands, I nearly hitch on my breath.

My knuckles are fucked up, bloody patches stained around the torn flesh.

I try to wash the wounds out, but it only stings, so I end up with still dirty hands and a little refreshened face.

I plop myself on my bed, my back on the soft cheets.

I didn't even took the effort this morning to clean up the mess from last night.

Is it only been one night?

It seems a lot more.

I'd thought a lot of questions would come into my mind when I finally was alone, but that didn't really happen.

The only thing I think about is Charlie.

It sounds cheesy, but it isn't.

The way she yelled at me, you could almost grab the hate with both hands. I mean, I screamed at her too, but I didn't meant all of it.

Like the part where I called her a selfish bitch.

Damn, couldn't I think of something better to say, less hurtful?

Atleast she's safe now, no one, but me, can hurt her now.

I'm glad she chose by herself to go to sleep. The couch isn't as comfortable as my bed, but it's her choice, can't force her upstairs, that would be a bit too weird.

I push myself up from my bed and walk over to the wall that is currently covered in posters and pictures.

I still don't have one with all the boys, Joy and Charlie together.

I mean, I have one, but not on the wall yet. It's still downstairs next to the printer.

I think I still have a good spot left for the picture.

My mind tells me to go downstairs and go for the picture, but I don't want to wake up Charlie.

Well she's probably fast asleep, because of the alcohol, so I decide to just do it.

When I'm in my little bureau, I immediately take the small picture in my hands.

It's from the day we first met.

We're in a too small photobooth, all squeezed into the cabinet but still managed to get all our faces on the picture.

It's a roll of 5 pictures, the more you look down the weirder our expressions.

I can't believe that was taken last year, in August.

Almost half a year ago.

Time really flew by, I tell you.

I let out a small chuckle when I take a proper look at the last picture.

Calum and Michael are making a some kind of rape-face to eachother, Ashton sticks out his tongue, Joy has a so-called 'fishface', I am cracking up because I was probably falling out of the booth and Charlie has one eye pointed to her nose.

We're normal, I swear.

Making my way to the stairs, I decide to take a look if Charlie's asleep.

When I enter the living room, I can hear a steady yet heavy breathing coming from the couch.

Charlie has her arms wrapped around her own body, she's cold.

I quickly run for a blanket, draping it over her small posture.

She immediately calms down when she feels the blue fluffy blanket touching her skin.

I take a seat in the couch next to where Charlie is resting, and take a look at her.

She still looks really tired and sad, but also peaceful, at last.

You're still falling for her, Luke, every day more and more.

••••••••••••••••••••••

Ed sheeran is a ginger god

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