My Masterpiece•Edluca

03 ☆ Primed Connection

❁ཻུ۪۪ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈
┊We should attempt,                     
┊At inventing happiness.              
┊Together.                                      
✧ ˚ 　· 　 　 . •
┊ ┊
˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ

• Author's Note •
● I'm uploading some of this story for my English Writing work, wish me luck. I'll tell you guys what I get graded when the grades come in. ●

     "And why are you asking just a blastemous question?" Edgar questioned back, his eyebrows furrowing down.

     "Well I suppose it's only reasonable to ask during a cipher date!" Luca hummed back, a fanged half-assed smile crossing his face.

     A smile that Edgar would love go wipe of off his face in a matter of seconds. Which he would have done if his heart didn't skip a beat. His stare casting around for the hunter quickly, he frowned in puzzlement when he didn't see a soft red illuminating the ground near.

     "It's not a cipher date. And is the hunter near your side? I can't see it anywhere." Edgar commented back, ignoring the thumping of his heart against his chest- for now.

     "No, the hunters not near," Luca replied, his tone puzzled, "Why?"

     "My heart's beating quickly," his reply was curt, his brain quizzing on why it was doing so.

     It didn't feel like fear- this felt different. It felt‐ new. Fresh. This definitely wasn't something he's experienced before. If Edgar was to paint it out, it would be bright. Very bright. Pastel colours sketched out to show off a soft sunset. Or maybe even a golden-cloudy day. The colours would mix in perfectly, blending in like a gentle whisper.

     Strange. Very strange.

     Luca gave out a small, audible gasp.

     "My my, is the artist catching feelings for lil' old me?" Luca exclaimed, his eyes wide in what seemed to be delight.

     "Don't be ridiculous," Edgar shot him down in a matter of a second.

     Edgar couldn't possibly have a pacing heart for someone such as Luca. Slakming his boot into the side of the cipher, Edgar's face remained blank.

     He didn't know what love was.

     He didn't care for something like love- why would it help him paint? How could it help him achieve his next masterpiece? He didn't understand why people fell in and out of love- love was ridiculous. And there was no way he, Edgar Valden, was falling for Luca Balsa, an prisoner, a guy! He would be easily disowned by his family.

     ... His family.

     "Don't be so sour Edgar! I mean, we're pratically the same! Two peas in a pod!" Luca exclaimed, shifting his gloved hand to place upon the painters shoulder.

     Edgar simply stared at the gloved hand, scowlding.

     "How are we the same?" He questioned, shaking Luca's hand of off his shoulder.