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You sat on the oak stool ear buds in, blasting some obscure alternative/indie band you'd found online. You're last class had been dismissed a half hour ago. A blank canvas stared back at you from the easel you never allowed anyone to use. Fresh paint had been portioned out on the old stained palette you'd had since high school.

Late night

Driving long past the sunrise

I know you're feeling it too

There's no end to this road

But it's alright

I know my home is with you

You sang along loudly. Who cares, you're alone and you sing rather well after all.

Inspiration was having a hard time freeing itself. Every time you closed your eyes you saw his face. The break up wounds were still rather fresh. This had been the longest period of time you could remember going without being able to paint.

I can't say why I'm acting this way

Oh darling who knows why I called

I knew you weren't awake

Late nights on the road

Didn't hear your call

Damn I hope you'd catch me when I fall

An involuntary sigh escaped your lips as you twirled the wooden handled paintbrush between your thumb and middle finger. Honestly it wasn't for lack of inspiration. You just wanted to paint him and couldn't bring yourself to. Whenever you had an art block that's what you did. There was something about his ridiculous grin, wavy midnight hair, brownish red eyes and let's not forget those freckles.

"C'mon F/N ... Get it together." You groaned at yourself.

You forced yourself to think about the things you hated about him. That obnoxious orange cowboy hat. How he was almost always shirtless. The stupid tattoo he got of his own name when he was drunk and spelled it wrong. The tattoo artist thought the X through the S was some sort of statement. He's forever branded ASCE and doesn't even care. You chuckled remembering how his father scolded him in front of his brothers for it. Suddenly five years of Ace came crashing down on you.

A large hand tapped your shoulder sending your heart into orbit. You ripped the ear buds out and whipped around to face the intruder tears rolling down your cheeks.

A tall tan young man stood before you, a bewildered look plastered on his face. You dabbed your eyes with the bottom corner of your apron.

Intentionally messy blue-black hair crowned his head shadowing his sharp dark features. Dark shadows lined his silvery eyes.

Is he wearing guy-liner? He's a bit too old for a goth phase.

Thick black tattoos covered his arms and peaked out of the collar of his v-neck shirt.

Maybe not.

"I didn't mean to scare you." His voice was softer and lower than you expected.

"H-how long have you been here?" You needed to assess how embarrassed you should be.

"You were halfway through 'Reno'." He offered a crooked smile.

Shit.

"Uhm. Classes are already done for the day. I don't take walk-ins though. You have to call during business hours to sign up for a course." You cleared your throat tried to fake your best professional voice.

.One Night. [[ Trafalgar Law X Reader ]]Where stories live. Discover now