luke lore no one asked for but you’re getting it anyways🐛
“When I get scared,” Quinn admitted quietly, “she always sings that church song.” He picked absentmindedly at a loose thread on his blanket. “She told me to say something, too.”
Luke looked up at him, eyes still glossy. “Huh?”
“She says if you’re scared, you should remind yourself who you are before you think about what you’re afraid of.”
Luke frowned. “So then what do you say?”
Quinn was quiet for a second, remembering their mother kneeling beside his bed after one nightmare too many, her hand smoothing back his hair. Or when he was frozen with anxiety at the thought of leaving the house. “I say,” He took a small breath. “I’m Quinn Hughes. I’m loved, I’m safe, and I’m stronger than my fear.”
“Sometimes. But it works better than sitting there letting your brain make everything worse.” Another rumble rolled across the sky. Quinn glanced toward the window, then back at his little brother. “Come on. Say your own.”
Luke swallowed. “I’m…” He hesitated. “I’m Luke Hughes.”
“And,” Luke squeezed Quinn’s hand without realizing it. His brother squeezed back. “The storm’s just noise. Just loud.”
A tiny smile tugged at Quinn’s mouth. “There you go, Lukey.”
“I’m Luke Hughes,” he repeated, a little more confidently. “I’m safe, I’m brave, and I’m not gonna run.”
The two of them got settled in the bed, facing each other, when Luke asked, “what church song does mama sing to you?”
Quinn gave him a small smile. “This little light of mine.”
“Can you sing it?” Luke asked.
Luke remembered, so vividly, his brother singing to him. It was probably his earliest memory, that night, and how the morning was so bright, and beautiful, and how the breeze kissed his skin when he left the house for his tutoring lesson.
“I’m not gonna run,” he said to himself, his head resting on his knees. “I’m brave,” his voice cracked, a tear slipping past his cut cheek. “I’m brave, I’m brave, I’m brave.”
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