As she sat herself down comfortably on my bed, stretching out like she owned the place, Mara sighed before retorting, "Ever since Luke got beaten to a pulp, it's been quiet around here, huh?"

Really though, I could tell she was just as happy he was coming home as I was, even if she wouldn't say it. She wasn't wrong, though. In the three days since it happened, everything had felt... off. Too quiet, unsettlingly so. I don't think any of us realised how much we'd miss the idiot until he wasn't constantly at our sides to bug us. Not that we hadn't visited him, but he needed rest to recover so the nurses were a little strict with our visiting hours.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Mara turned to me with a shrug. "He'll be back soon. Where are the others?"

She was supposed to come with them, but they said they had something to take care of first. No point dwelling on it, though—because right on cue, Nilla and Alec burst through the unlocked door.

Nilla had her hands behind her back, and a mischievous smile tugged against her lips. Alec, on the other hand, looked way too pleased with himself as he strolled in.

"What's that?" I asked, eyeing Nilla as she practically skipped over to us, holding a small box wrapped in a mess of paper and tied with a crooked little bow.

"It's for Luke," she said with a proud grin. "I made it a while ago, but I kept forgetting to give it to him. Now seemed like a good time to remember."

Alec plopped down next to Mara on my bed, which earned him a huff and an eye roll from her. They were clearly still in some unspoken battle of wills but I decided not to ask, it wasn't something I wanted to get into right now.

Just as we settled into the usual routine of waiting, there was a soft knock at the door—quickly followed by a loud thud as it flew open.

"Honey, I'm home!" Luke's voice rang out as he barged in, arms raised in mock triumph. That is, until the pain in his side hit him and he doubled over with a groan. Idiot.

I shook my head and pulled him into a hug. "Took you long enough." I stepped aside so Nilla could tackle him next, only to have Mara slap him hard on the back.

"That's for making this lot worry," she snapped, though the look in her eyes said she'd been just as concerned as the rest of us.

Luke winced, but managed a half-smile. "Good to see you too, Mara."

As we chatted, trying to lift Luke's spirits, his mom and little sister came in behind him. I waved, "Hey, Mrs Dean. Coco."

Mrs Dean laughed softly. "No need to be so formal, Nate. It's just Lara."

I gave her a sheepish smile before Mara rolled her eyes and leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, watching the scene. Luke tried his best to play off the pain, but it was obvious he wasn't fully back to normal. Still, we kept things light, making jokes as we hoped to bring some sense of normality back.

After a bit, Nilla suddenly remembered the gift. "Oh! I almost forgot!" She thrust the box into Luke's hands, practically bouncing with excitement. "This is for you."

Luke unwrapped it carefully, revealing a small metal grip inside. His eyebrows shot up as he turned it over in his hands. "What is it?"

"Press the button!" Nilla urged, grinning.

He did, and the grip opened up into a beautifully crafted bow, sleek and shining in the light. Luke's face lit up, and he tested the weight, pulling back the string. "This is... amazing. Thanks, Nilla."

She smiled, clearly pleased with herself. "I thought you could use a new bow to go with those new arrows."

Luke admired the bow a bit longer before he set it aside, turning back to us with a softer smile. "I missed you guys."

We spoke for a little while longer before Mrs Dean—Lara—ushered everyone out, insisting that Luke be left in peace to settle back in and relax.

When it was just the two of us, he slumped onto his bed and sighed, hugging it as he whined, mumbling into the sheets, "I missed you."

I laughed at his childishness, laying back on my own bed. "I'm sure your bed missed you too."

My eyes settled comfortably on the ceiling and, for the first time in three days, I finally felt at ease. Just hearing the sound of his breathing across the room brought this strange sense of comfort. Like it was nice just to know he was there, which it was, but something still seemed off—different somehow.

"Luke," I called softly, turning my head to look at him.

He raised his head to glance over, his eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to read my mind. "What?"

"How are you, really?" I asked, serious now. "And don't give me the same crap you've been feeding everyone else. Tell me the truth."

He sighed, sitting up slowly with a slouch. "You can tell, huh?" His voice was soft, almost embarrassed, and he looked away, chewing his lip.

The silence that followed wasn't the same comforting one as before. This time, even the sound of his breathing couldn't comfort me. This one felt sombre and empty. Luke stared at the floor, his hands fidgeting in his lap.

After a long pause, he got up and shuffled over to my bed, sitting down next to me. "I-I'm fine, really. Don't worry about me too much. My wounds are healing, and I'm not planning on getting my arse handed to me again anytime soon."

I frowned. "Luke... you remember the day we first met? I didn't even know you, but when I woke up crying, you let me talk. You comforted me. Why won't you let me do the same for you?"

He sat as still as a stature, his eyes trained firmly on the ground. Then, he let out this soft, almost defeated chuckle. "You really are something else, Nate. I-I've never had a friend like you."

But he still wasn't answering my question. I stayed quiet, giving him the space he clearly needed. I'd wait however long he needed before he could be honest with me—with himself—whether that would be a few seconds or even months.

"It's just..." he started after taking a moment to collect himself, "I feel so helpless sometimes. I can't fight back because if I do, he'll hurt Coco or Mum. But when I don't fight, I'm the one who gets hurt, and it still hurts them. Either way, I'm... I'm just stuck. I hate that they have to worry about me all the time. I hate that I..." His head drooped, resting on my shoulder. "I hate that I can't do anything."

Without a word, I wrapped my arms around him, holding him close as he let out a shaky breath. A single tear slid down his cheek, but he quickly wiped it away and stood up, pulling away from my embrace. He didn't say anything as he crawled back into his bed, hiding under the covers.

I didn't push him to say more because I knew he didn't want to. Just knowing he trusted me enough to share even a bit of his burden... that was enough for now.

My head rested against my pillow again as I whispered, "Goodnight, Luke."

He stirred slightly but didn't reply.

That night felt darker than most but when morning finally came around, the sun began to shine just a little again.

Luke was already up, tossing my uniform at me. "Wake up, sleepyhead. We're gonna be late for class."

I sat up, rubbing the grogginess from my face. "You're coming? But you should rest."

"Rest is boring." He grinned. "Then again, so is maths—but I'd rather go to class with you than stay here alone all day."

He grabbed my arm and shoved me into the bathroom, teasing, "Hurry up, you stink."

When I came back, Luke was struggling to get his shirt on, wincing with every tug. Normally, I'd laugh, but seeing him like this—bandaged and bruised—was a harsh reminder of what he was dealing with. His wounds were still a lot worse than he was letting on.

With a sign, I stepped over to help. "Here, let me."

He resisted at first. "I got it."

"No, you don't." My voice was firm, and after a moment, he let me help him pull the shirt over his head.

"Thanks," he mumbled, a light blush dusting his cheeks.

We didn't say much else after that, not that I could tell you why it was so awkward between us—maybe because Luke knew I could see right through his strong facade, but maybe it was something else.

By the time we were in class, Luke was back to his usual antics, cracking bad jokes and somehow still managing to get on the teachers' nerves, bruises and all.

It was nice seeing him like this—acting like himself again. But I knew better. I saw through it all. No matter how hard he tried to hide it, he wasn't okay. Not really.

Still, for now, this was enough.

As we headed out of class, Luke nudged me. "Why do you always space out like that? It's getting annoying." We had been talking about something before my mind strayed elsewhere again, trying to solve all of his problems on my own.

"Why do you always complain? That's getting annoying." I smirked and mimicked him with a poke of my tongue.

"Why you little—" he rolled his eyes and tackled me to the ground, a decision he immediately regretted as pain shot through his bruised ribs.

"Idiot," I laughed, poking my tongue out again.

"Not my brightest idea," he groaned, lying back on the grass.

I got up and offered him a hand. "Are you okay?"

He rubbed his side, then ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. "Yeah, I'm good. Just... you know, being an idiot."

We both laughed and kept walking, heading to meet the others at that little café we all adored.

Why is Luke trying to play tough and why won't he just open up to Nate? So... not much happened in this chapter but don't worry, more action is on its way. Thanks for reading and don't forget to vote!