𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑⁰¹ʰᵉᵐᵐⁱⁿᵍˢ✓

⁰³breaking into song

clementine

Whenever Blue Eyes talked, my heart seemed to skip a beat, as if pausing to hear nothing but how wonderful he sounded. I loved how he smirked every once in a while while he spoke, his eyes gleaming as though it was the most interesting subject in the world when really he was telling a story of his dog, Petunia.

"I have two cats," I tell him and he smiles in surprise.

"Two cats?"

I nod proudly. "Yep. Two persians, Sunny and Darth." I held a lot of pride in my two cats and I was never shy whenever someone asked about them. "I got Darth, like, three years ago I think. And Sunny just a little over a year ago,"

"Wait, boy and girl?"

"Mhm,"

"You're not worried they might..." He cocked a brow and nudged his head.

I understood what he meant but I still wanted to see him actually say it. "Might what?" I asked, playing dumb and watching him twist his mouth to find the right words.

He chuckles at the uncomfortable situation. "You know - might... pro...create?" His eyes shift between the floor and my eyes.

I bite down my lip to hold back what would be an ungodly snort. "Nah, I'm not worried," I say, lips now spread in a wide grin. "I think Sunny's a lesbian,"

He snorts at my reply. "You think she's a lesbian?" He repeats, laughing between the words.

"Yeah!" I exclaim, grinning at how I'd made him laugh. "My neighbour has a cat, and she's a girl as well, so when Sunny met her she was literally all over the poor thing. She's gay, I tell you,"

He holds a hand over his stomach, leaning back as a laugh escaped him. "Your cat... is gay..."

I never thought much about accents but suddenly his was the best of them all. And the way he laughed was hysterical, all it made you want to do was smile at how exquisite he was as a being. And there he was standing in front of me.

I shake out of my daze when Ashton asks something about the painting. "So do you just directly paint on the canvas or do you have to, like, draw first?" He points at the grided canvas.

I shake my head. "Um, it depends," I turn away from Blue Eyes and begin to explain how I'd take turns between the two techniques within each reference photo. They seemed genuinely interested and I was quite surprised. Usually, not a lot of people were interested, let alone ask how I did things, it was only ever my colleagues.

"Man, that's so cool, what you do," Michael says, staring at another painting that was drying in the floor.

Calum and Ashton walk towards a painting I finished the week before, saying how real it truly looked. I was glad to hear that, as that was my aim and my line of work.

Blue Eyes stays by my side, I could feel his eyes boring holes into me and I had to refrain from looking up. Just pretend he's not looking.

I bite down my lip as I continue to stare at the blank canvas, but the urge takes me and I finally turn his way. I meet his eyes and I damn myself for giving in. "So, uh, do you live in New York?"

His brows rise as if he didn't expect me to say anything. "Oh, no. We're just here until the end of September. We're recording a few songs down at Electric Lady Studios,"

Oh. So they're big big? "Oh, wow, that's... nice," What was I supposed to say? They must've been a big deal to be able to hit up such a legendary recording studio.

I see him squint at me as if evaluating something. "You... haven't heard of us, have you?" He asks, brows furrowing as I squirmed under his hot gaze.

I tried recalling what the name of their band was but nothing came up. Wow, maybe because they never said the name of their band? "Um - as in you four as a band or your songs?"

"Either one,"

I purse my lips, knowing I'd trapped myself in a corner with my own question. I didn't even know their name, how would I know their songs? "I... can't say that I have," I stray my sight from his eyes out of sheer awkwardness.

He chuckles as if my clear mistake was humourous. "Why'd you ask, then?" His wide smile told me he wasn't taking it too seriously.

I shrug. "I don't know - I was hoping you'd say the band name so maybe I could remember some songs,"

He laughs with a wide mouth, his head leaning back for a second. "We're Five Seconds of Summer. Do you remember any songs now?"

The name definitely rang a bell but no song came to mind. I shake my head.

"Hm..." He looks down, lost in thought before humming what sounds like an imitation of a guitar followed by some 'hey''s. "Simmer down, simmer down, they say we're too young now to amount to anything else," He looks at me, waiting as if expecting something.

"What-you want me to burst into song as well?"

He laughs at my reply, shaking his head. "No, do you recognise the song?"

It hits me that that song must've been the band's, and so far, I liked how it sounded by that one line. "Oh, it sounds good. But no, I haven't heard of it. I no longer keep up with music and all that, the only songs I hear nowadays are from cafes and what my coworkers and roommate play."

"Busy?"

"Mhm,"

He hums. "I could've sworn that was our most recognisable song," He plays an offended expression and I laugh at him for it. He pauses for a second before softly singing again. "You look so perfect standing there in my American apparel underwear, and I know now that-"

I gasp, pointing excitedly and jumping up and down. "Oh! I know that - I know that song!" I giddily tell him, overly excited about that fact. I calm myself and laugh at his surprised expression. "God, that song was inescapable in twenty-fourteen."

He laughs, that beautiful laugh that catches me every time. "Well, I guess I'm glad."

"Which album is that from?" I ask.

"Our first album,"

My brows rise. "Oh? It's pretty damn great for your first album. Which album is this one I'm painting for?"

"Our fourth," He says proudly, head held high at the accomplishment.

I nod slowly, sensing how proud he must've felt. Not a lot of artists made it, especially bands, so it's always special when at least one of your songs gets a hit. "Okay, now since the name of this project is called 'Wildflower', I assume the album's name is 'Wildflower'."

Chuckling, he shakes his head and smirks. "Nope, not Wildflower."

I almost feel my knees weaken at the sight of his smirk... what the fuck? "Huh, well I'm defeated. I have no guesses." I look down at my bare feet, not wanting to say anything, scared that I might say something I'd regret.

No, you just came out of a year long relationship, I scolded myself, knowing it wouldn't look so good. But that was seven months ago, another part of me argued. Aiden is baggage, that much was true.

I look up at him but he isn't looking back, instead, at his band mates who were fooling around with some oil pastels on a large scrap of paper.

My eyes scan his fine profile, noticing how seemingly perfect he seemed, reminding me of those statues of Greek Gods in the museums of Italy. Is he that comparable to them?

Then, in a flash of a second, he looks at me-eyes looking brighter from the light of the window, his stubble accentuating his jawline.

God, he does look pretty. Too bad he's my client.