chapter seven

                                    

                                          

She was beautiful, and so familiar to him. Soft skin, bright blue eyes, a rounded face lit up with joy and happiness. Blond hair framed her face, but as soon as her features were sharp enough to distinctively describe, they were blurred and gone with a blow of wind.
                          
Who was she? Why does she follow him?
                          
His out reached hand closed, and he watched as the room around him crumbled and shook. He held on to the dresser beside him, fingers digging into the dark wood as a figurine fell to the floor with a loud thump. 
                          
It was small, round, indents to represent craters and a grey-ish blue color. It was the moon. He's seen it before, but where? 
                          
Better question, where was he? 
                          
*
                          
He woke up to someone shaking him, and he grumbled a quiet sound of irritation as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. His dream twisting and turning reality because he expected to hear a woman's voice, but all je got was a slightly pitched, "Are you awake?" 
                          
He hummed, and Luke looked up to find his couch had been made a mess of with blankets and pillows. Right beside the mess was Michael, who was leaning over him with worry etched into his raised eyebrows as a steady knock sounded at the door. It must have been going on for awhile considering how much force was pushed into them.
                          
"Someone wants to come in." The other told him, but it didn't quite register to the blond until he heard his father's voice at the other end of the door.
                          
"I know you aren't sleeping right now, Lucas. It's nearly noon." He heard his deep, heavy voice almost mock him from the other side of the dark wood.
                          
He shot out of his makeshift bed, rubbing his neck in pain momentarily as his bones felt stiff and aching. Tension bled down his spin, and when his arms cracked and knees popped, he nearly moaned at the temporary relief. 
                          
"Who is it?" Michael's quiet voice pulled him from his thoughts.
                          
He felt worry blossom in his chest. "Go in my bathroom. Stay in there until I say you can come out." Luke hissed as he pointed a finger at the being's chest, who nodded quickly at the order. "Stay quiet."
                          
As soon as the words left his mouth, Michael had taken off in the direction of his room, out of sight but not out of mind. It was a constant looming anxiety that someone would discover him, and if it was his father of all people then he wouldn't know how to prove to him his worth and maturity. He'd never look at him the same again.
                          
Luke panicked as the knocks became louder, his mind running fast but his limbs even faster with their own brains controlling them. It was a rumble of dissonance, no melody or grace in his movements whatsoever. Tripping over his duvet and nearly crashing into his glass table, then stubbing his toe on the recliner as he rushed to the door, he could easily say today was not going to be a good day as he hopped to greet his father. 
                          
"Hey!" He shouted as he opened the door, supporting his weight on his doorknob as a throb shot up his foot. "Dad, what-what are you doing here?"
                          
"Your breath is rancid." He commented before pushing into his loft. "Your space is a mess. Have you got any care in the world?"
                          
He ripped the curtains open and Luke flinched at the bright light as it seeped into the previously blacked out room. His eyes took a couple moments to adjust to the sudden brightness, and he slowly closed the door as he watched his father move around his living room.
                          
"Are you a man or a child, Luke?" He scolded, picking the blankets from the floor and tossing them on the couch with disgust. "Do you still need someone to clean up after you?"
                          
"N-No, sir." He stuttered as he walked over to him. "I was awake until late working on my classes -"
                          
"- at least you can do that." He sighed as he straightened his tie. "How are your courses coming?"
                          
Luke scratched the back of his neck as he took a deep breath. "They're great. They get easier and easier as time passes." 
                          
"I'll send an email to your teacher to adjust the difficulty of them then." Luke gaped at him. "As a Hemmings, we don't do easy. If it doesn't challenge you, it doesn't teach you."
                          
Luke bit back a sigh. "Yes, father." 
                          
"I was going to wait until tomorrow, but I realized I would be too busy speaking with the government of out discoveries. I came up with the conclusion that today we'll get breakfast, or lunch considering you sleep in like a lazy teenager," he bit with scolding eyes. "- and we can discuss the changes around the Academy."
                          
"Is class still out?"
                          
"Yes, I haven't changed my mind on that. The students are too... dumb to keep their mouths shut about the secrets we hold. Until we cover it up below ground, classes are dismissed. They stay in their dorms and the common areas, but any other part is off limits." He explained as he picked up the nightlight and examined it. 
                          
"I-I'll remember that." He nodded. "The students aren't dumb; they're quite intelligent, but I understand."
                          
His father spun the light on his palm before humming. "You still sleep with this childish contraption? I thought I told you to dispose of it years ago?" He commented, and Luke chewed on his bottom lip.
                          
"It was -"
                          
"- enough." He rose his voice as he carelessly tosses it on the couch. "I don't care for petty sentiments. Get dressed. We have business to discuss."
                          
"Will I need my bike?" Luke asked dumbly, just wanted to stall a little bit longer so he could get his thoughts straightened out.
                          
His father scoffed. "Goodness no. Business men don't ride those God-forsaken things. We'll take my car. My driver awaits, but he waits only on me, so you best hurry before we both get impatient." 
                          
"Yes, sir."
                          
Luke rushed to his room and then shut the door before scolding himself. "You fucking idiot." He seethed as he ripped his closet open. "Your bike? Talking back, especially out of turn?"
                          
He yanked a fresh t-shirt off his shelf and then switched it for his sleepwear. "What's wrong with you?" He whispered while tugging on a jacket. "Fourteen years of living with him, and you still can't properly have a conversation with him!"
                          
Sometimes Luke wonders if his father kept the wrong kid, but he doesn't dwell on the thought too long because he could hear his front door shut, which meant his father was getting ready to leave. He had about two minutes to finish getting dressed, there was no time to further question his attitude or placement. 
                          
His brain didn't know control however, so even ad he was rushing to the elevator to catch up to him, he was still mentally tearing himself down for his inadequate speech towards his superior.
                          
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