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Luke knew he had to ask Big Luke about it. Whenever they had a moment alone, he had to ask. Insight into the future was a dangerous thing, but knowing how long he had to endure was worth it.
But the longer he stayed here, the more he realized how rare it is to have time alone from Layton. Aside from lecture days and final exams, Luke spent all day every day with the Professor. Which wasn’t bad. Except when it was.
“Professor? Would you mind giving Big Luke and me some privacy?” Luke’s fingers twitched, itching to fidget with something.
“Whatever for, Luke?”
“It’s…um…it’s private. That’s why we need privacy.”
“Well, it’s not very gentlemanly to remove a man from his own room, but I can give you the space to talk.” Anyone else would’ve missed how he clenched his jaw, how his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “I’ll be downstairs in the lobby when you’re both ready to head out.”
Layton stiffly turned and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.
Both Lukes waited in silence as the Professor’s footsteps got fainter and fainter, until they were gone. Then they waited some more. The mattress squeaking as Luke squirmed felt impossibly loud in the deathly quiet room.
“So…um…When did it stop?”
“When did what stop?”
Luke tugged at the hem of his sweater and became very interested in the floor. Puzzles about planks of wood floated in and out of his head but he felt far too anxious to solve any of them.
“When the Professor…you know when he…um…” He had never told anyone what happened behind closed doors. Luke wasn’t stupid; he knew what Layton did was wrong, but knowing it was wrong didn’t make it any easier to talk about.
Even with himself.
“When…the Professor…t-touches me. Us? Down…there.” Each syllable felt heavy on his tongue. “When does it stop?”
Clive swallowed hard. In all his time he spent studying Layton and Luke, he never would have thought there was this dark of a secret lingering under the surface. Layton’s lingering touches seemed…odd, but excusable. A father figure’s affection for his apprentice.
For the first time, Clive thought about abandoning this whole plan. Pretending to be an older Luke no longer felt fun. A clever act of theatre was quickly turned sour in just a few moments with just a few words.
How could he possibly console him? Kindness was difficult to perform even in the best of times.
“I…don’t know. Our timelines won’t match up after you and the Professor help me.” It wasn’t the worst lie he’s ever told, but it was certainly among the weakest he conjured since their arrival. “I’m sorry, Little Luke.”
Luke simply nodded and shrunk into himself. It was strange to see him so…small. Of course the boy was tiny for his age, but he made up for it with huge bursts of energy and confidant posture. He had trouble sitting still and would wave goodbye with his whole body and, on occasion, literally jumped for joy.
But now he seemed so fragile.
He even flinched when he sat next to him on the bed. Clive made a mental note to destroy Layton after he was finished with Dimitri and Bill.
“I don’t know what I did to make him…” Luke shook his head and squeezed his eyes tight, not letting any tears slip out. “He’s a good person. I know he’s a good person.” It was more for himself than anything. Well, present himself. Past himself?
“Good people don’t do those sorts of things.” Clive spoke slowly, carefully. Details are what made his lies into a reality, but he couldn’t possibly know what the details were in this case. He didn’t even want to guess. “What he did…it’s inexcusable.”
Somehow it hurt more. Luke was hoping Big Luke would call him stupid, say he was overreacting and being a brat and that he will learn to appreciate the gift Layton keeps giving him in time. Time heals all wounds but Big Luke still looks so fractured. Maybe they will never heal.
“I still…I still love him.” Luke’s lip started to tremble. He’s been so good; he hasn’t cried yet and now he’s going to ruin it. “I still love him. He’s so kind and gentle and brilliant. He cares about me…even more than Mum and Dad.” Fat tears started rolling down Luke’s hot cheeks, leaving little wet stains on his sweater. “He loves me. He said so.”
Clive swallowed hard. “If he loved you, he wouldn’t do things that make you feel this way.” It took everything in him not to break character; just a few more days and everything would be okay. Maybe he could take Luke with him after everything had gone to plan. “I know it’s hard—“ Clive felt sick; of course he doesn’t know how hard this is— “but we make it through.”
Luke nodded and furiously scrubbed his face with the sleeve of his sweater. His eyes were puffy and red, eyelashes clumped together. The Professor couldn’t see him like this.
“Let’s get you presentable, yeah?” Clive gave a weak smile and headed to the bathroom. His stomach was still twisting inside him, but he needed to regain control. “And if the Professor asks, you wanted to talk about…” What do normal boys ask about? It’s been so long since he was a normal boy. “A crush you have.”
Luke was handed a cool washcloth to put over his eyes. It did make him feel better, even if only for the moment. He did some deep breathing his mother taught him when he was small and had nightmares almost every night. In, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Out, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.
Clive found himself breathing with Luke. They had to appear normal. The less abnormalities Layton could sniff out the better his plan would work. His plan had to work. Failure wasn’t an option before, but now that he’s taking revenge on Luke’s behalf, it was paramount that he succeeded on all fronts.
When Luke took off the washcloth, he looked like his normal, happy self again. He flashed a wide grin and stood up off the bed. “Alright, ready to go!”
He grabbed his messenger bag and practically sprinted out of the room.
Clive swallowed the last of his dread away. If Luke was able to play the role of happy Luke, then Clive could absolutely do the same.