graffiti - z.m.

{ 8 }

[nora’s pov]

If he hadn’t been such a pain in the ass I would probably have managed to admire the piece he was working on, but as he happened to be just about the most rude person I had encountered, I simply just couldn’t.

 

“You do know it’s illegal right?” It was getting darker with each moment, surely he would have to stop the painting soon.

 

“You do know you’re fucking annoying right?” He asked me in return, making me drop my jaw as he continued with that damn spray can.

 

“You do know you’re terribly rude right?” I fired back at him, shocked and offended. He stopped the painting midways. Slowly I saw how he lowered the can, brushing some hair out of his drop dead beautiful hazel eyes in the process. He turned to look at me - and if  I believed I couldn’t have been more surprised, I was terribly wrong. A smirk was resting on his lips.

 

“You do know I’m the one who agreed to help you right? So shut the hell up,” he stared at me with a 'do you understand?' look in his annoyingly beautiful eyes. And his eyes would have been dead attractive - had it not been for his horrible attitude.

 

He didn’t say anything else, just continued his damn work while I sat here in a dress and high heels in this shabby part of Brooklyn. Staying silent.

It wasn’t till the night was finally and completely over us, that he seemed satisfied with his work. The streetlamps were flickering in the night, as bypassers were walking out in the street next to the abandoned dark construction site in the late summer night. It was a Saturday night so I wasn’t surprised that even here in this shabby part of New York City people would be out this hour of the day.

 

I would probably just have taken off on my own, if it hadn’t been for the fact that the types around here - well seemed to be the very unfriendly kind, to say it politely. At least the guy - whatever his name was, who had agreed to help me - yes had tattoos; but of cartoon robots and small doodles. He seemed distant and enclosed, but not exactly dangerous. But you could never know places like this.

 

Turning around to watch the uplit street every second it seemed, I didn’t notice as the guy stepped away from his finished work and took out the ear pieces.

 

“You like it?”

 

I turned around with the adrenaline pumping through my body. I had this strange feeling that any moment someone would come up from behind and grab a hold of me. I had practically forgotten this guy could talk, as he had just stayed stubbornly silent since our last few shared insults.

 

“You mean - the graffiti?” I watched him, as he was wiping off his hands in the hem of the white shirt he had on. In the process his olive skin on the side of his lower back showed a little, I looked away arubtly with flushed cheeks. He still stood with his back towards me thank god. I knew the shirt was full of color stains, but it was too dark to really see now. He quickly grabbed a flannel from the ground.

 

“No the wall - yes of course I’m talking about the graffiti!” He looked back at me awaiting my answer - would he even mind what I said?