March 18th.
12:51 p.m.
[Luka's POV]
People have many faces (obviously).
Resting face.
Resting bitch face.
Cold-resting bitch face.
Sad-resting bitch face.
Happy-resting bitch face.
*insert all bitch faces*
You get the deal.
People with these types of faces will generally not be able to show any other emotion besides their bitch face. I know, I know. It's scary. They only have one expression stuck on their face's for their whole lives—it's too sad.
*wipes imaginary tears*
What, me? (you're probably not thinking).
Well...
I was blessed,
With this heavenly face called...
*cues drumrolls*
Resting pure-bitch face!
(excuses)
...Pure resting bitch face!
(excuses)
Bitch face pure resting?
(excuses)
The fuck?
Pure resting face (fuck off I know it doesn't sound cool)!
(There's no point when everything's fake)
So, why am I so lucky to have this face?
(T̷̡̖͔̘̩͙͂̃̐̓̊h̷͈̾͠ȩ̶̛̖̻͙̦̺͉̫̹͎̻̯̽̍́́͜ͅr̶̢̛̗̝̗̤̪̀͂̀̉̈́̋͗̋̎̄͑e̴̛̙̪͎̣̲͚̲͓̳̗̦͍̣̿̅́̊̀̄̒'̵̼̆̓̓́̓́̐s̷̢̘̫͍͇̗͎̘̘̿̀̑̽͋̽̏̐̓̚̚͘͝͝͠ ̷̡̡̧͓͓͈̤̤̲͎̲͙̊͊̔͒̂̅̌̀n̵͕̪͉̝̉̅̌͐͊̈́̅̃͊́͋̈́̓̎o̶̰̮̺̠͂̅̄͌̾̆̕̕ ̴̻̹̈͌̽̀̿̚͝p̴̧̛̦͓̟̞̖̬̙̟͔̒̄̚͜ò̷̥̮͕̑̆͋̌̂͒̎̕̕i̸̧̡͍̺̥̝̝͆́͂̿̾͆̋̊ñ̵̩̩̃̉̊̊̌͘ţ̷̢͓͇̥̩͓͍͇̦̻̣͛̑͒̂̃̎̏͋͝͠)̸̞̻̯͇̯͚͚̆̈́̿͒̂̈́̽̾͛̆̎̄̀͘
Uhh, wait lemme try and remember—
(So why don't I just...?)
"Mr. Hayes?"
(...leave?)
Mmm...
(hmm, down)
Bitch nah, I forgot. Imma keep drawing or some shit—
"Mr. Hayes!"
Y'all I forgot school was a thing.
"Yes?" I looked up from my paper full of doodles to the exasperated face of my English teacher, Mrs. Harris. I blinked as I sat up from my relaxed and docile form on the desk to look at her narrowed eyes and pursed lips. Obviously, she wasn't happy.
"I called you three times, Luka. Three times." her voice was dangerously low. I looked up at her with wide eyes and a jutted lip.
Bruh, are you sure about that? I'm probably deaf or sumn...
"I-I'm sorry Mrs. Harris, I studied for Mr. Hollenbeck's class until late, and it's been hard to focus on class today." I paused with a wavering voice. "I'm sorry." her face softened when I finished speaking, and her earlier frustration with me vanished. I inwardly smirked as I felt an urge to rub the burning on my arms but pushed the feeling down.
YOU ARE READING
I Can Hear Your Voice
WerewolfLuka; The purest boy you could ever meet. Everyone knows he's pure-on the outside and definitely on the inside too. Everyone knows this and no one has ever doubted it and has never tried to. Why go through the trouble when the answer is obviously cl...
