Sweaters and Angels

Chapter 5 | Impeccable

A/N: My Boi, the one and only Luca Night. Your welcome. Btw, no idea who tf this is, I got it off Pinterest so chill.

Luca's POV-

Shit, I'm going to be late. I mean, you take four minutes out of your day to fight a kid and suddenly your late to class. Bullshit.

To be honest, it was completely my fault, but also to be honest, I don't particularly care. I've been itching to punch something all day and that nerd, well he just gave me an outlet for my anger. Is that such a crime?

According to all known American laws and societal norms, it is, but who cares about those. I sure don't.

And so, I strolled into my last class of the day with slightly bruised knuckles and a dangerous look in my eye. Well, a more dangerous look than usual.

The Art teacher, Mrs. Hayes was used to my less than stellar tardy record so she waved me by with her paint stained hand.

I sat down at a random table which happened to be next to that new girl. Yep, totally an accident. It's not because I was interested in the way she stared daringly back at me at lunch today, or the way her blond hair fell about amazingly around her shoulders, or how she smiled beautifully at anything and everything, or how she wore an adorable sweater that matched her sweet face. Definitely not.

Boi, you're whipped.

I literally just met her, I don't even know her name. How can I be whipped, oh so genius brain.

Don't question you're superiors idiot.

Your my brain, how can you be superior. Your literally part of me.

Please, like I would associate with you.

Wow. Low blow.

Hey, you do know that new girl is staring at you right?

I snapped out of my mental conversation to indeed find that the new girl was staring directly at me, picking me apart with those captivating hazel eyes.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

Indigo's POV-

Is it seriously possible for me to have literally a Fallen Angel in every single one of my afternoon classes? Yes, yes it is.

Can my life get anymore cliche than it is at this very moment? No, no it cannot.

Of course, with my luck, the school's favorite bad boy, Luca Night, is in my art class. Of course. It's like life enjoys making my existence some kind of joke. One that disappoints all of its friends when life tells it, even though it thought it was hilarious and the peak of comedy.

He strode into the classroom like he owned the place and Mrs. Hayes (the sweet old art teacher) didn't even bat an eye. Even though he was late!

I couldn't help but to stare at him, half in irritation, half in awe. The last part was because Luca can make anything look good. Even the awful school uniform that he paired with a form fitting leather jacket that perfectly complemented his figure.

It's no wonder he's in my art class, he's a masterpiece. I'm swooning.

Umm no, you're staring at him like a maniac.

It's called flirting, look it up.

His black hair was as thick as I wished I could be, and his body was built well enough to make my mouth water. Not to mention his face looked like it was sculpted by a literal angel. But those eyes, his eyes draw me in every time I look at him, even though I've only seen him twice. I could lose myself in their hidden forests.