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Jazmyn's POV
The humid summer nights are the best ones to spend alone laying in the soft moist grass of the park, looking at the sky and not sleeping. The Puget Sound is two streets away and the mixture of the water and the fresh soil fill my nose as I draw the light pole that shines down on the road. It looks vintage like it has been standing there at least 50 years. It doesn't look like it will come down anytime soon, in fact it looks like a new coat of paint was applied to it last week.
The light behind me illuminates my paper as I sit on the ground in my sweatshirt and jeans so I don't freeze my ass off.
I sketch the post as my iPod drowns out the city noise playing my favorite band, The Neighbourhood, Afraid. It's up so loud in my ears that I don't notice someone has approached until I begin choking on cigarette smoke. Something I am deathly allergic to, that and I have asthma.
I yank the earplugs out of my ears as I crawl away from the smoke fumbling through my bag for my inhaler.
"Are you okay?" I hear a male with a thick Australian accent ask.
"Allergic." I choke. "Put.It. Out." I say through coughs pointing up at my best estimate of where the cigarette is and he chucks it into a puddle.
I take a deep breath of my medicine and I sputter a cough.
"You stupid inconsiderate asshole." I am enraged at the fact that he has intruded on my regular drawing sessions and almost killed me.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know." He does seem genuinely sorry but I'm too mad to take that into account.
"What are you even doing out here at..."I trail off glancing down at my phone for the time. "Two thirty six in the morning." I interrogate.
"Says the person who is also out here at two thirty six in the morning." He rebuts and I want to scream as his lips curve up into a smile exposing dimples.
I take in his features, he is very tall he's easily six inches taller than me. His blonde hair is up in a quiff and he has a lip piercing, along with a black gage piercing in both ears and heavy tattoos on his arms.
I may actually consider him handsome if I wasn't so pissed at him right now. "Shut up." I grumble.
He bends down to pick up my journal which I snatch from his hands. "I'm Luke. Luke Hemmings." He says and I begin packing my things away.
"Just leave me alone." I grunt shoving my notebook in my bag. My breathing has evened by now. I set out for home.
"You're almost as beautiful as your art work." he calls after me and I roll my eyes at his cheesy back handed compliment.
How could he see someone and be so rude as to pop a cigarette in at that very moment? Doesn't he know that second hand smoke is even worse than smoking itself?
I make my way up to my house two blocks away. I walk in and I shut the door carefully behind me making sure not to wake my mother up. She is a very busy workaholic and she hates to be woken up.
"Jazmyn?" My older brother Zayn confirms from his graffiti room, his door is wide open. I walk in and I see him working on another piece of art.
We are a very artistic family, my mom doesn't like to talk about our father much since they got divorced three years ago but he was a very successful painter. We both inherited that from him, thankfully.
"Where you out drawing again?" he asks me.
I nod grabbing my notebook out of my bag. I am disappointed when I see the pages are crumpled. I sigh in frustration remembering my near death experience. I flatten out the pages the best I can for now and I show them to him.
He flips through the pages smiling. I notice Zayn has a new tattoo on his arm. "Did you do that one yourself?" I ask him knowing he has several of them on his arm he has done himself. He is going to do my first tattoo this summer.
"No I paid for it to get done. I can't take the bandage off until tomorrow." he responds studying the intricate details on the lamp post. Every scratch and every mark on there.
"Cool." I sit down on the couch and look around the colorful room. I see the cartooned picture he did of me and I smile. He captured my black kinky hair perfectly, my olive skin and my eyes.
My eyes are weird, one if them is brown, the other one alternates from green to blue depending on the season.
Right now it is bright blue like the ocean.
He hands my journal back to me, "Damn sis, you have some crazy talent." He is very impressed with my work and I smile to myself.
He goes back to work and he turns on some tunes as I watch him.
He puts his whole body into his work popping up and down as he sprays the wall. Sliding his arm swiftly back in forth creating the rebellious masterpiece.
I watch him until my eyes can't take anymore and I roll over on the couch and I sleep.

Torn ||Luke Hemmings|| AUWhere stories live. Discover now