[
Untitled Luke fic] by
algernon_mouse Luke.
Short, and a little sad.
Luke can’t remember not being angry. Portland sucks. It’s always fucking raining here. And he hates Newport because it’s fucking Newport - which doesn’t leave him a lot of options. He’s angry at his Dad, and he won’t look that guy in the kitchen in the face, because if he does he just knows he’s gonna snap and start punching him and then he’ll just end up in someplace like juvie with pretty boys in jumpsuits. So he slams the drawers shut, and bangs the cupboards closed, and he gets up off the couch and stalks to his room whenever *he* comes into the den and uses one of those soft-lip smiles on him and says things like, 'hey Bud,' as if Luke is supposed to want to talk to him.
Luke can hear them talking, whispering things like, ‘give him time,’ and ‘it’s a tough adjustment,’ and ‘he’ll do fine. He just has to make a few new friends, you’ll see.’ Which makes Luke sneer to himself, because what the fuck do they know?