Seventeen

15

((I was gonna kill off calum but cal convinced me other wise :((

-Mel))

☆☆☆☆

Seventeen dips a brush into soft blue acrylic paint, reaching her free hand out expectantly. Luke's wrist settles in her palm, so she drags the brush across the back of his hand. They're quiet for a while, until there's a muffled thud from next door- Luke's studio, where Ashton and Calum are meant to be talking.

"Hm," Seventeen's bright pink lips tilt up in amusement. "Ashton probably threw your boy toy into the wall."

Luke rolls his eyes while Seventeen wipes her brush off and dips it in the blue paint. "He's not my boy toy. Besides, Ashton's small. And pregnant."

"Ashton's terrifying and the baby's dead," Seventeen tells him. Luke's mouth snaps shut in surprise. Why hadn't anyone told him? He tries to focus on the brush swiping across his wrist instead of the thoughts beating around his head. Why did Michael's Personalities know before he did?

Luke shakes his head and watches Seventeen blend colors on his hand and up his arm. It's the sky, Luke would recognize it anywhere. She catches him staring and quirks an eyebrow, but looks back down when their eyes meet. "You spend more time looking up than at your boyfriend."

"I love the sky," he admits quietly.

"More than Calum?" She asks. Luke's not sure. He slumps on his stool and let's Seventeen paint all the way up to his shoulder. She clears her throat awkwardly after a minute and asks, "Are you excited for your gallery? It's only four days away, isn't it?"

Luke shrugs, forgetting how Seventeen is gripping his elbow to keep him still, and shoots her an apologetic look. "Sorry. I don't knkw, I guess. Are you coming?"

"Do you want me to?" She looks up in surprise brush stilled on his skin. She's kept Michael the same today, because she doesn't plan on staying long. She looks like Michael, and Luke almost believes she is for a second, until he glances down at his arm and sees the beautiful scenery she's creating.

"I'm not sure," Luke admits. "I'm think I'd rather you than Michael."

"Michael can hear you," she warns with an amused smile on her lips. She looks back to Luke's arm and keeps painting. "Why don't you want him there?"

"He's smug," Luke spits out. "He's got a piece in the gallery and he's smug about it. My gallery." He huffs and shakes his head.

"Why?" Seventeen asks while adding some yellows to Luke's bicep. "It's your gallery showing, why is his ugly ass abstract piece there?"

Luke snorts. "Abstract expressionism," he corrects. "It's there because I get the whole gallery, I should be able to give up one slot for Michael's promo, or whatever. That's what Ashton said, anyway."

Luke's still bitter about it, honestly. Sure he gets two full rooms at the gallery, with the rest blocked off, but that doesn't mean he can't be greedy. The invitations say Luke Hemmings, not Luke Hemmings and friends. He's allowed to be pissed off about this.

"Besides," Luke continues with a scowl. "He's only got the one and it's not like he's ever going to make another piece like that ever again. He doesn't need promo for his empty future."

Seventeen laughs, pretty and of a pitch higher than Michael's. "You and your friends are so naive, Lukey."

Luke glances down with a frown, because he's not quite sure what she means, when he catches sight of something on his arm. The colors aren't blended like he expected at all, they don't look anything like what Seventeen usually paints. Instead, they're blocky, flat lines of color streaking along Luke's skin.