Colors

Part 1

heres our pretty and punk boys^^

"First day of school, excited?" Mom asked me. I smiled and shook my wings slightly, knocking the blanket off, then nodded.

"Yeah! I'm gonna see my friends and make new ones!" She chuckled at my optimistic attitude.

"Alright, just don't get in any fights. Okay?"

"I couldn't hurt a fly, Mom. How could I hurt another person?"

She frowned a bit. "There's demons and angels and humans, all in one school. Possibly even poltergeists, if they don't tear down the school..."

"So? This school is where different races get together and work alongside each other in a weird Kansas town. No bigotry is allowed, it's a law!" I cried as I jumped out of the bed.

"That doesn't stop people, dear. Now get ready for school and don't die." Her small wings fluttered as she left the room and shut the door behind her. I grabbed some clothes from my dresser and quickly changed, then threw my paint-stained trench-coat over it all. I ran across the hall and into the bathroom, snatching the hair chalk from the medicine cabinet. I grabbed a pastel pink and blue and drew little hearts all over my wings, but they got all smudgy from the feathers refusing to cooperate. I shrugged it off, added some yellow into the mix and then shoved them back into their place. I hopped out of the room and down the stairs, almost falling over the dog. 

"Watch out, Jack!" I cried as I jumped out of the way and into the kitchen. I threw some bread in the toaster and Mom walked in.

"You got ready fast, what's that on your wings?"

"Hair chalk, makes them all pretty." I showed off my wings and grinned. 

"Oh, it looks nice. You haven't done that in a while."

"I've barely left the house all summer, Mom."

She shrugged and smiled. "That's true, now get your food before it burns." She left as I spun around and rushed to get the almost burnt toast. I threw some butter on it and sat down to eat. I occasionally snuck crumbs to Jack, earning disapproving glares from Mom. 

When I finished, I threw the dirty plate in the sink and went back to my room. I grabbed a small backpack and shoved my drawing supplies and a couple notebooks inside. I spent all my time focusing on art, I barely had space in my bag for the notebooks- the only things for my academic stuff. I slung the backpack over my shoulder and walked outside, declining Mom's offer to drive me.

I took a deep breath of the Winter air, sad that it would be gone soon. A small bit of snow was still out, though, and it fell slowly. I watched the flakes eagerly as I walked to the school. But before I knew it, I had landed on the ground,  hand to my forehead and a person doing the same in front of me. Some other student and I had run into each other right outside the school. I jumped to my feet and went to grab the person's hand to help them up, but I was pushed back by a different guy. He was tall, really tall, and had long brown hair. He frowned at me in disgust and grabbed the guy's shoulder, pulling him to his feet. 

It felt like everything froze- no pun intended- when I saw his face. Tattoos crept up on his neck, partially hidden by a Nirvana t-shirt, his black hair, the brown roots refusing to hide, the piercings along his lip, nose, and ears. And his eyes. Oh, those green eyes. I stared in awe, jaw dropped, as the taller guy pulled the dream-boat away, onto school grounds. I heard the bell go off from the school and rushed to the first class I had, math. 

The teacher was boring, he droned on and on about equations, but I paid no attention. I kept thinking about that guy. I pulled out one of my sketchbooks and started drawing him. I put as much detail as I could into the eyes and tattoos. They stood out the most to me. I was scared out of my skin when a person's face popped up and stared intently at my paper. His big, red glasses and red bow-tie drew attention away from his otherwise solid black attire.

"That is so much cooler than math notes, dude." He said, scooting closer. I raised an eyebrow ad hid my drawing some.

"Why were you looking at my stuff?"

"Because we sit next to each other, duh." He grinned evilly. 

"That explains nothing..."

"Meh, it's good, though. I'm Crowley, by the way. I'm the king of hell."

"Yeah, and I'm Sherlock Holmes."

"I thought he lived in the UK?"

I sighed. "I was being sassy, my name is Castiel."

"You sound like the name of a ladies perfume, Castiel. And I really am the king of hell, I can prove it." He replied smugly. He pulled a phone from his pocket.

"We're gonna get in trouble on our first day..." I worried aloud.

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Nah, look at this." He proudly displayed a picture of him sitting on a throne- hell's throne- with a skull-like crown atop his head.

"Th-that could easily be a child's toy." I whimpered.

"You really don't believe me, do you?"

"I know that angels and demons go to this school- me being one myself-"I moved my wings some. "-But the king of hell? Unlikely."

Crowley shrugged. "I'll take you there one day, then, Castiel."

The bell rang and I pulled out my schedule, pushing away the guy and standing up. "Art class! Yes!"

I went to leave but Crowley grabbed the edge of my coat before I could go. "Hey, you might wanna hide your picture of the bad boy when you reach that class, okay? He's got it with you, and his brother doesn't take kindly to that stuff." He smiled and left the room. I frowned in confusion as I closed the sketchbook and left for the art room.

I wonder is the guy really is in that class with me...