VIOLET

1

FRIDAY
Violet efua stood in an art gallery she had stumbled upon after wondering the streets of New York City.a lost case, her parents called her.
She had invested most of her money into moving to New York and pursuing in art.
Her dream slowly disintegrating like the ashes of a toxic, lung tarring cigarette.
Many people called her crazy "a 19 year old living in New York, she wouldn't last" they said. Contrary to a popular belief she left anyways.
Now 22, life was moving fast, like the words that left the lips of her strict African mother.
Or the words of her outspoken roommate.

Luke Hemings stood beside her, goosebumps developing on his white skin as he stared at the ethereal girl he found himself daydreaming about her lips, a lost case, his parents called him.
He would always be lost in the riot that consumed him, reality disintegrating like the ashes of a smooth, satisfying cigarette, Luke's favourite.

"Can I help you?" Violet asked, Luke snapped back to reality, her voice was like honey, it was sweet and smooth and sticked with him.
Like hot chocolate, it was warm and soothing.

"Sorry" Luke stood up straighter examining her further "sorry..sorry."

"Okay.." The curls on the side of her face fell from behind her ear, where it was usually situated it reminded luke of  the brown locks that would always fall in front of his face when he pained. "Violet."

"Luke" he smirked suddenly remembered a pick up line his friend Michael would always say "I would shake your hand but we aren't allowed to touch the works of art."

"Wow how many times have you used that?"

"A couple" he jokes

"Nice" she smiled
Luke knew he had ruined it and contemplated wether or not he should purchase his coffin in the colour black or brown.
"So ..uh do you like comics"

"Not really" she giggled.
Violet was the kind of girl you would see walking around New York City on a sunny day, buying flowers for herself, she looked like the preschool teachers you would see in movies with names like 'honey', her hair short and her eyes big.

"You're a photographer?" She asked, her British accent prominent.
"Yes, you're British?"
"Yes, you're tall?"She answered back, Violet was quite tall herself but luke made her feel short which she liked.
"Yes, you're beautiful." He smirked
"Stop"
Luke never thought he would ever be drawn to a girl like Violet, he always liked 'punk' girls, which piercings and tattoos."
"You wanna,I don't know, get out of here?"he chuckled, running his hand through his hair and using the other hand to point to the exit, his tattoo peeking out of his dark t shirt.
"Yeah sure."
After minutes of searching Violet and Luke finally found a little coffee shop.
................

They spoke and spoke until the sky became dark, the moon came out and the stars illuminated.
"Shit, I need to get home." She said checking the time.
"Yh I'll see you around."

Luke found himself walking home, thinking about Violet.
Her name reminded him of flowers and his mums favourite colour and the colour of his best friends hair, most of all her name couldn't help but make him feel nostalgic about the purple dinosaur that was on TV every morning when he was younger.