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It was no secret that Luke was adopted. His parents looked nothing like him: they both had dark hair and dark eyes, contrasting heavily with his blond hair and bright blue eyes.

But Luke didn't mind all that much. He loved his parents unconditionally, for really he had no one else to love. He was homeschooled, you see, and rather afraid of the outdoors. Ever so often he'd hear a yell from a passerby or a car honk, making him jump and scurry for the sheets.

Every day was pretty much the same for him. His parents would leave him with the schoolwork he had to do before leaving for work, and he would diligently sit and do it by the window, listening to soft music streaming out of his record player. Sometimes, perhaps once a week, his parents would bring him a new book or a new record, and he would read or listen to it when he was done with schoolwork.

His mum used to often check up on what he did, since she was his teacher, but now that he was older, she was less concerned, which meant that he was often left to his own devices in the confines of the apartment his parents and he lived in.

However, his nights were far different than his days. His days were carefree and light, like the silk drapes on his windows. His nights, on the other hand, were filled with sorrow and half-hearted wonder. He would sit on the window ledge well past midnight, the window open the slightest bit, and sing to himself as he looked up at the sky.

Luke never dared to look down. He lived on the highest floor of an apartment building, and even though there was a fire escape attached to his window, he was scared he might plummet to the street below and die.

So he just looked up at the sky, the stars and the moon, and he wondered whether there was anything out there for him, anything that could possibly be more beautiful than, or equalling in beauty, the silver stars that shone so brightly in the ebony skies.

Luke's fear rendered him oblivious to what could potentially become the most beautiful part of his life. Only a mere two floors beneath him lived a boy, who would come outside every night and sit on his own part of the fire escape, looking up at the blond and listening to his singing, mesmerised by his beauty and by his voice. He didn't know how to get the blond boy's attention without scaring him off, so he never said a word, and simply enjoyed the soft singing that sounded so much like a soft lullaby, somehow overpowering the loudness of the restless city surrounding them.


a/n: I'm really excited for this! In case you didn't catch on, this is gonna be a modern day Rapunzel au. I'm working on a bunch of these, hope you like them xx

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