The Violet Hour

The Violet Hour

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WpMetadataReadOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Tue, Aug 15, 2017
The night seemed silent with him, despite all of the racket going on 26 floors below us. "Why do they call you Dusk?" I turn and inquire. A slight smile fades across his lips. I would give anything to reach over and brush the pad of my finger across them, but I restrain myself. I can't let myself ruin this perfect moment. "Because I only come out at night," He settles on finally. I let out a breath of laughter, peeking back at him once more. Both him and the moment draw me in, and for once I feel content with my life. Suddenly though, he perks up. "Duty calls." He says finally, giving one last longing smile. Then he flips off the roof, soaring into the night, leaving me alone on the building roof. What I would give to be soaring with him then was inexplicable. And, little did I know, there was nothing he wanted more than to waste the night away with me on that roof, far away from his superhero identity. »»» Skipper "Kip" Link is a sullen high school girl, tortured by normality and constantly wishing for something greater than the boring life set out for her. But a chain of tragedies that left her older sister and many others dead proved to be reason enough for the city to be extra cautious. And, of course, to worship the illusive hero, Dusk. Dusk's powers were inhumane and constantly saved the city from the inevitable trouble they were always in. But trouble always slows down during the violet hour, and much to Kip's surprise, that's just what she needs.
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"What do you want?" I snap, slamming my locker shut. His casual smirk, messy dark hair, tan skin, strong arms, eerie storm-grey eyes... the list could go on of things I notice- that I shouldn't notice- about him. "Oh, I want a lot of things." He inspects a speck of dirt on his arm. "I'm sure you've heard the news?" His eyes flicker back up to meet mine. Does he know? No. He can't. So I roll my eyes. He can't know that I know, that I would do anything to be the first one he tells. "You'll have to be more specific." I mutter, trying to look casual as I inspect my nails. "Well, it involves a certain title of the swim team," He offers. I shrug. "So you got captain. That's cool. And what do I have to do with that?" He narrows his eyes, trying to read my expression. Unfortunately for him, I have mastered the art of hiding my emotions. "This is what I wanted to talk to you about. During English," He fiddles with his sweater sleeve. "I recall you trying to talk to me," I frown. "Well, I..." He swallows, seeming... nervous? "I'm not doing too great... subject wise. And if I don't pick up my ass soon, I might be forced to quit." He rubbed the back of his neck, making his shirtsleeve slide up his arm to reveal a strong bicep. Not that I notice. I narrow my eyes. "And what do I get back in return?" I cross my arms. I'm going to be late for the bus if we don't hurry. He studies my face. "Name your price." He mirrored my position. I sigh. Money... but I don't need it. Popularity... but I don't want it. I meet his gaze steadily. He lifts his chin, the tiniest bit, but it doesn't intimidate me. I square my shoulders and stand up straight. He's only just taller than me. "Stop pretending to be perfect." All rights reserved. Cover art by me :) but will probably be redone soon

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