A/N: this has cursing, fighting, angry!Luke. Thanks to whoever requested.
The sound of the front door to your flat slamming shut echoed through the house. You heard curses and groans from under his breath. He struggled to kick his shoes off and when he did, he sloppily threw them onto the floor.
“Luke, Is that you?” you asked from your bedroom upstairs. There wasn’t an answer, so you decided to go check for yourself. He normally never got home from the studio this late so he either had a horrible day or he went out partying with the lads.
You tip-toed down the stair well. Luke was sitting on the couch in the living room. You could smell the alcohol coming off of him from all the way upstairs. He had another a beer cracked open and the bottle lay in between his legs. He was typing profusely on his phone, quietly mumbling to himself.
“Luke?” you questioned.
“Jesus. (y/n), it’s me! Who the hell else would it be?” he spat in an annoyed tone. You were taken aback by his rude tone and honestly didn’t feel like having this fight with a drunk Luke. It happened many times before, since Luke seemed to be an angry drunk.
“I have dinner ready for you. I’ll just heat it up,” you told him as you passed by the living room on the way to the kitchen. Luke didn’t answer, he kept his attention on the football game.
You put the plate of pasta that you had made for him hours ago- when he was actually supposed to be arriving home- in the microwave. “Lukey, It’s done,” you called as the annoying beeping of the microwave went off. Again, no answer.
“Luke,” you called again. “Jesus christ,” you mumbled, when there was pure silence.
“Whatcha doing?” you asked. You walked into the living room and peered over his shoulder. Luke jerked his phone away from your vision and continued typing.
“Can you stop trying to get in my business?” he shouted at you as he quickly sent a message and locked his phone.
“Sorry,” you whispered, no where near the volume he had used a seconds ago. “I just wanted to tell you dinner was done,” you said.
“Yeah, I heard you the first five fucking times,” he blew you off. Luke got up and walked straight into the kitchen.
“Here,” you smiled, handing him the hot plate of spaghetti. Luke didn’t even thank you, before grabbing a fork and sitting down at the table. You sat across from him but he didn’t tell you about his day, or even talk to you, like he normally would.
“Oh god, did you make this?” he asked with a disgusted look on his face.
“Mhm,” you quietly mumbled. It was evident he didn’t like it.
“It’s uhh… different,” he replied. he made an attempt to spare your feelings, but it didn’t work.
“If you don’t like it, you can tell me,” you said with a fake smile.
“Okay, it’s disgusting,” he laughed. He clearly didn’t understand all the effort you put into this. He didn’t understand that all you wanted to do was make him a warm meal and you couldn’t even do that right.
“Sorry. I was just trying to be a good girl friend,” you said, a hint of anger to your voice.
“It didn’t really work out that way,” he chuckled. Luke ate a few more bites, before he decided he’d had enough of your horrible pasta.
“Alright, I’ve had enough of you and this pasta,” he joked, but it wasn’t a joke to you. He walked away from the table and back into the family room. He resumed his position, this time grabbing another beer.
You followed him out there to give him a piece of your angry mind. “You don’t have to be so rude all the time. The minute you walked through that door you were a dick to me. I did nothing to you, so care to tell me why you’re pissed off?” you shouted.
“Please stop talking to me,” he mumbled, grabbing his hair and frustratedly pulling at the ends.
“No, Lucas. I’ve had enough of this. I’m sick of you treating me like garbage. You don’t know how hard I worked on that dinner. Just tell me why you are angry!” you shouted.
“Okay, I’m done. Your so fucking clingy and annoying. Can it hurt you to leave me alone for 5 seconds?” he yelled.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you sassily remarked.
“Means, I’m going upstairs to go to bed because I can’t deal with my clingy ass girlfriend,” he told you. He stormed off the couch and starting making his way upstairs. You were still livid with him, so you followed.
By the time you got up there, he had stripped down to his boxers and was getting ready to crash. “You again?” he laughed. Your rolled your eyes at his comment.
“What is your problem, huh? What the fuck did I do to deserve your shitty ass attitude?” you screamed at him.
“You are my problem. You wonder why I’m always at the studio or with the boys, but it’s all because I’m trying to get away from you,” he yelled back. This time throwing one of the books on the night stand at the wall behind you.
You gasped as the book gently grazed your ear. “The hell was that for?” you shouted.
“For fuck’s sake. (y/n) I don’t like when you get like this. In fact, I hate you,” he yelled. His face was bright red and his neck veins were popping out.
Who was this person? You surely didn’t recognize him. As soon as he uttered those words, your perfect, loving boyfriend was gone. You stared at him your mouth still agape. “You don’t mean it, you are just angry,” your voice cracked, as your eyes welled with tears. Every bit of anger you had been replaced with sadness.
“I mean every word I say,” he spat.
The tears welling in your eyes came running down your red cheeks. You looked at the monster before you. Luke would never say those words to you. Never. Whoever this person before you was, is a different man than the one you fell in love with.
The words repeated in your head. A loud sob came through your body as you struggled to find words to say. That’s when he realized what he’d done. He’d hurt you, broke you, left you. He caused pain on the only thing he loved.
“Baby-,” he whispered, coming towards you with his arms opening for a hug.
“Don’t. Touch. Me.” you sobbed.
“Please- I-,” he tried getting out, but his sobs made it nearly impossible to speak.
“I-I t-think I’m gonna sleep on the couch tonight. Night, Lucas,” you said, while tears dripped down your cheeks.
“I Love you,” he whispered.
And for the first time in a long time, you couldn’t say those same three words back to him.