A hurt tattoo artist, a crazed painter, a confused druggie, and a controlling gangster...It sounds like a chaotic mix of colors that shouldn't be able to mix, but instead they take that expectation and they make themselves blend together instead.
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7 - Obsessive, Chaotic
Luke shivered lightly when he felt a breeze of wind hit him at a full force as he stood outside in the dark night. With his left hand holding a sketch pad and his right hand holding an ordinary pencil, Luke was dedicated in getting every single detail as accurate as he could.
Luke was a talented artist and he was able to draw up a piece full of passion and accuracy. But his love still laid within his paintings.
Drawing was something he only did on rare occasions and with the fact that he was outside Michael's house discreetly, watching him through a small window, a sketchpad and pencil would have to do for now. This amount of realism and detail was more up Michael's alley, but Luke was willing to compromise.
But Luke wanted to be able to paint Michael one day. He wanted to paint the beautiful tattoo artist's body, tattoos included. Luke wanted to dwell into all the curves and shapes of Michael's body and he wanted to make a perfect painting that reflected the other's glorious looks.
Luke frowned slightly when he saw Michael get up from his bed and go into the bathroom instead, closing the door behind him. Huffing, Luke learned against the wall of the house and looked into the dark night full of stars.
He missed Ashton. Luke hasn't seen the gangster ever since they spent their night together a week ago, and he hasn't heard from him. He couldn't of been that bad right? Smirking, Luke knew that idea was ridiculous. Luke knew that he was hot and that he rocked Ashton's world that night. The gangster was probably just speechless.
But Luke still missed him and he knew that after spending some of his stalking time on Michael, he was going to have to go looking for Ashton.
Some movement was heard by Luke coming from inside Michael's room, making him stand back properly up and look into the room again. Scowling, Luke watched in distaste as he saw a woman sitting on the edge of Michael's bed. Who was this bitch?
Michael then came out of the bathroom, pausing as soon as he saw the woman. "What do you want, Marissa?"
"I want to talk to you, Mikey." She frowned, "About all of this."
"There's nothing to talk about." He crossed his arms and stayed much away from the bed and from Marissa, making Luke narrow his eyes even more at whatever this was, "You cheated on me and left me for Oliver."
Luke's eyes widened in shock. Who could ever cheat on someone as magnificent as Michael? In that moment Luke promised himself and his tattoo artist a promise so full of brutal passion. He was going to make this disloyal woman pay for ever hurting the precious one he had his eyes laid on.
"I still care about you."
"I don't see why or how you do. You obviously didn't care about me when you broke my heart."
"Don't act like that."
"Act like what?" Michael asked hurt, "Don't act like it doesn't hurt everytime I see you with him in our own house? Don't act like you ruined my trust when you stabbed me in the back?"
"I never wanted to hurt you..." She frowned when she saw really how upset Michael was as he tried to keep in the tears.
"Well it's too late for that." He glared at her, "Just get out of my room."
"Michael—" Marissa tried, but Michael didn't let her.
"No. Get out of my room. Now please." He said stressfully, motioning towards the door.
Marissa could only sigh and slowly get up from the edge of the bed, walking past Michael and towards the door. Once she was in the doorway, she gave him one last trying smile before leaving him in there.
He huffed and slammed the door closed after she left, throwing himself on his bed and getting underneath the covers in order to protect himself away from the coldness, unknowing to the fact that Luke was outside willing to take the uncomfortable weather in order to see him.
Luke frowned even more when he saw Michael lay on his back and just blankly look up at his ceiling like he was lost. To Michael, it was like he had no purpose and he was just there on Earth for no real reason. Things weren't feeling good at all lately and he didn't have anything or anyone in his life that motivated him to get up in the morning.
Sighing out, Michael just had to remind himself to live for his art. That gave him closure at least.
Luke just wanted to barge in the house that he was looking into and hug Michael after killing Marissa mercilessly. That would be a beautiful picture to paint; using the backstabbing woman's blood as paint like he had done for Ashton's painting would be breathtaking.
But he had to stop himself. He couldn't explode in a murderous rage without no proper warning given to the depressed tattoo artist. Luke was going to make Michael comfortable with him, allowing him to get to understand him and his chaotic mindset before he got his wanted blood.
Luke looked down at his drawing and smiled softly when he saw a picture resembling the tattoo artist perfectly. This drawing and his painting he had made for Ashton were defiantly now Luke's two favorite pieces of art.
He then hesitantly trudged away from the window and away from the house, looking back at it in a distance.
Luke was an obsessive, chaotic painter and he was aware of it. But he didn't have it in him to actually care that he was what other people would call crazy. He found things—paint and art—and people—Ashton and Michael—that he would take a deep interest in at first sight and not be able to get enough of. He couldn't find peace until they were completely his.
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Luke drawing Michael? 👀 Michael being sad about Marissa? 😔
