Trust Fall // l.h

Chapter 7: The Conversation

HIIIIIIIIII, here's chapter 7 for you! Our new cover is above, and please give us feedback. The girl is our personal perception of Brita, but you know with red hair. Thank you and enjoy!
-Allison & Faith

Brita's POV

I furrow my brow as I draw the final petal of the rose design I've been working on for a hour. My butt is going numb after sitting in the same position for so long. Sleep never came to me last night. Obvious symptoms of an insomniac, self-diagnosed of course.  I balled my hands into fists to rub my eyes in an attempt to remain awake, seeing that the coffee wasn't offering much help. I gnaw on my lip in concentration as I begin shading the flower. Since I've yet to turn eighteen, I'm not allowed to actually give anyone a tattoo, but that doesn't mean I can't draw sketches.

This has become my regular routine.

Wake up from whatever restful, but not quite asleep state I'm in, slide on a pair of loose sweatpants, tie my hair up in a messy bun, sit on one of the stools facing outside the shop and draw whatever comes to mind. As I readjust myself into a more comfortable position and push my bangs back behind my ear I look up and notice a boy strolling across the street. It's the same boy from the other day. He's dressed in a lilac polo and khaki pants.

Why on Earth would he be wearing the uniform for the flower shop next door?

Of course you idiot, he must work there. I am taken aback since goth boy looks quite different when he isn't wearing the slitted black skinnies, beat up vans, and hoodie in various shades of black. My eye catches on a vibrant knotted rope bracelet resting on his right wrist. I mean it's obviously not standard flower shop uniform but I don't remember him wearing it when he was staring me down the other day. I find myself tearing out the page and pressing my pencil onto a clean one. My hand moves gracefully across the paper as I trace the outline of the bracelet.

Luke's POV

Lilac? Really? I have to wear freaking purple?!

As I pulled the polo over my head and stepped into the khakis, I continued to regret agreeing to working in a flower shop. Michael seems cool enough, but really, THIS is the uniform? I eyed my reflection in the mirror up and down and with one final ruffle of my hair, I was out the door.

Wait.

I stopped in my tracks and whip around to grab my eleventh birthday present from Lily, our first friendship bracelet. I slipped the rope on my right wrist and continued out the door for the second time.

As I slowly made my way across the street my eyes glanced into the window of the tattoo parlor. I saw her sitting by the window, hard at work. I couldn't tell what she was doing, but I was mesmerized by the concentration that was apparent on her face. Her lower lip found its place between her teeth and there were obvious creases on the usually smooth skin of her forehead. I quickly shifted my gaze away from her when she lifted her head and glanced outside. I felt my cheeks warm up as her gaze fell on me and in one swift motion, she ripped out the current page in her notebook.

I quickened my pace and made my way through the doors of the shop. I was greeted by an eager Michael.

"Luke, it's nice to see ya mate. You stoked for your first day at work!?"

I let out a small laugh and responded, "Definitely. I've always thought flowers were my calling."

"Well the uniform does look nice on you."

"That wasn't my first thought when I put in on. Do they really have to be purple?"

"Hey don't look at me!" Michael said dramatically as he threw his hands up in the air in surrender. "My Gran designed them before she passed and Gramps has never had the heart to change them."