graffiti - z.m.

{ 15 }

[nora’s pov]

He didn’t even offer to help me up the last step, which was more of a difficult climb up over the edge and onto the roof. I was breathing heavily as I swung my other leg over the edge after having halfly lifted myself up. The sound of fabric being ripped had echoed through the night; it had probably been the stitches of my dress up the side of my thigh. I examined the damage as I had safely reached the top; not feeling comfortable at all. Instead I could still feel the salty dried sweat from my run through Brooklyn, the sticky air from the Chinese restaurant that mixed with the smog up here coming from the small chimneys and open kitchen windows. My legs were slightly scratched, my heels hurt, hands were dirty from holding onto the ladders, my hair was no longer just a mess - it was a disaster more like. I was terribly tired and beyond hungry - but most of all I was absolutely furious.

I tried pulling down in my dress so it wouldn’t reveal too much of my leg, while I entirely tried ignoring Zayn who was seated on the edge watching me with no shame in his soul while chewing on some damn chewing gum or whatever. He was chuckling slightly, “don’t stress yourself for me honey.”  

My cheeks flushed red and I stared up at him, “just shut up and get me home.”

His laughter grew deeper and he got up from his seat looking effortlessly attractive with his urban style that functioned perfectly for climbing onto rooftops in the middle of the fucking night. I hated his smirk. I hated how carelessly he acted. And it was just deeply annoying to see how easily he could jump up onto the next landing of the next building and pull himself up. I groaned to myself and followed him. Fortunately my dance practice had ensured; that I at least had the muscle capacity to follow after his headless Zorro-like escape

There was not much to see up here, though it surprised me how much graffiti was all over the place; how the neon signs from the main street or maybe a kitchen window lit up the place in a ghastly strange way and after crossing through the maze of rooftops by ways I had never found on my own; we suddenly reached to a larger place which was located a little higher than everything else.

I sighed heavily not having more of this climbing around on fucking rooftops in fucking Chinatown and Zayn being such a pain in the ass; “I don’t understand what you find so offending about me. I’ve done nothing! And you’re just the biggest prick ever - I’m even fucking paying you to help me! Don’t you think that requires some kind of service - I mean maybe consider not to stop for your dinner or maybe think things through so we wouldn’t have to flee someone who obviously don’t like you,” I was yelling not able to hold it in any longer, “you know what? I understand why they would gladly beat you up if you’re acting like this all of the time because to be frank you’re such a -”

I didn’t get to finish my insult as Zayn who moments before had been facing me turned around with a face expression that gave less of a fuck for what I had to say and instead he paid attention to something else. I turned around to see what he was looking at; I thought we were supposed to continue to the next rooftop or something, but he was looking out over the side of the building we had just gotten up from.

I searched on forcing my eyes from his slender figure till a gasp left my lips as I realized what he was looking at. It looked like a painting almost; every rooftop was somewhat uplit and the graffiti pieces on the walls, the small areas of free roof or wall had been painted with violent colors in every shade of the rainbow forming out an amazingly wicked looking decoration for the urban scruffy area while the lazy smog rose from chimneys here and there. Somewhere below us party music echoed. The noticeable graffiti styles which twisted in and out with rounded soft corners and thick layers of shadows that suited the view as jungle twiners which had found their way over every surface that had room for life.