Strung (Rock & Romance I.)

Chapter 12. - Flipped

A/N: Has anyone else seen Mamma Mia 2?! Anyone watched it more than once? Been listening to the soundtrack on repeat for weeks? Obsessed? With Young Bill -maybe? Because omg... 

This chapter is dedicated to books_luv2415 ! Thanks for the luv on the ... you know... books! ;) 

***

The day passed by in a surreal daze. I was working on these wood pieces for Hazmat's album release party, while Lukas LaBelle was painting in my actual studio. In real life.

If someone would've told me this could ever happen outside of fan fictions, I would've laughed in their face.

"So." Lukas said, breaking the nearly hour long, comfortable silence. "Do you paint the other guys naked too?"

And just like that, the comfortable part went up in smoke and out of my silence. "Sometimes." I managed to croak out, in my suddenly dry throat.

"Hmm." Was his reply. "I didn't see any lying around."

I tried to move past the point that he must've looked through a very good portion, if not all of my art at this point, and cleared my throat. "I'm an artist, Lukas."

His golden eyes snapped to me. "That was the first time you called me by my name!"

Yes, to your face... Little did he know that I frequently used his name – his full name, to be precise – in conversations. "I make a living by making art, is what I was trying to say." I clarified, side-stepping his comment. "And then I sell it."

He nodded. "So why didn't you sell those of me?" Lukas asked, his nose scrunching up adorably as he looked at the shelves that were full of painting of him. "Am I not as popular as the others?" He wondered, his voice much more quiet this time.

Lukas LaBelle sounded almost sad, to have his portrait still sitting on my shelf.

I could've easily lied to him. I could've told him that his art didn't sell as well as the other members of Hazmat's, or something along the lines of that. But maybe it was that sad gleam in his eyes as he waited patiently for my answer, or the way I upset him earlier by bringing up his mother – I decided that Lukas LaBelle deserved the truth.

"I like to keep yours all to myself."

His gaze stayed on me, but the look changed. He no longer seemed sad – in fact, that gleam disappeared so quickly, I almost though I imagined it.

What remained in its place was red, hot, adulterated need. An attraction that mirrored my own, something magnetic in the air around us that I couldn't explain.

"Remind me again why I'm not allowed to distract you?"

I swallowed. Hard. "Because I'm working on your party. And I wouldn't want it to be anything less than perfect."

"I doubt you would be capable of imperfections." He murmured, returning his attention to the canvas in front of him.

I didn't ask him what he was working on, and he left me in peace too. For now.

***

Later on, he ordered some food for us – a whole bucked load of it. The delivery guy had to take two trips from his car to bring in everything, which was made even slower because the second time, he also brought in a little notebook, and his phone.

Lukas took a picture with him, in the condition that the delivery guy would not post the location, and signed a few autographs for multiple family members. When the man was satisfied, he waved us goodbye, and was out the door in half an hour flat.