I wish—he was still alive, sometimes…
Sometimes, he mumbled- because most of the time, his face was buried in his pillow- in his sleep. He knew he did, because Guy always looked so worried about him and because Guy had actually confronted him once about it. A clueless look and a tilt of the head and he escaped, though.
It was—nice, sometimes, to have friends that worried about you.
Sometimes.
And sometimes, it was frustrating. Luke wanted to be left alone, to mourn in peace. That was impossible though, with all of the frequent stops his former companions made. Even Jade came, every now and then.
Most of the time when that happened, they'd just sit, in silence, and watch the sunset- or sunrise. Jade never talked about it, and for that Luke was grateful.
He didn't even understand why he was so sad… the man had hated him, the replica. The failure, the one who stole his life. Called him names, and everything.
So why?
Why did Luke miss him?
He didn't know—he just did, and that was that.
There was one point he'd even considered suicide. He figured the only reason he hadn't gone through with it was because Tear was visiting then. But Luke knew he was really only chicken, afraid of the pain it would cause.
Sometimes, he wondered. What life would have been like if Asch were still alive. At the moment, he felt like half of himself had been ripped harshly away. Like…he wasn't whole anymore. And Luke had to wonder, if it would have been better if he had been the one to die.
If Asch had gone instead, and Luke had been the one to stay inside.
But that was just a thought, just an I wonder.
Only an I wonder.
Nothing more.