Sweaters and Angels

Chapter 23 | USE PROTECTION

A/N- Sorry for any mistakes, I'm too lazy to edit right now. Also, kind of the picture Indigo is painting off of. I take no credit and idk who did this either, so no hate.

Luca's POV:

It was unmistakably her. The tan skin that had boys and girls alike craving for a single touch. The silk black hair perfectly falling about her slim shoulders. The golden eyes that melted when she wanted something she knew she couldn't have. Slim shoulders and body that any athlete would kill for. A uniform that pushes the limits of Everly Academy's dress code in every way imaginable.

It was definitely Wilhelmina all right.

"Luca?" she repeated, "What the hell are you doing here?"

I crossed my arms. "I could ask the same of you? Having a romantic hookup in the janitor's closet again?"

"What can I say? I'm a creature of habit," she replied with a casual wave of her wrist.

So she didn't suspect me of listening in to her conversation. Good, I didn't want her to know that I had something to hold against her. Figuratively. When the time comes, this information will be useful.

Wilhelmina started slowly backing away, ready to bolt it seems. I bet it's my muscles that's making her skittish, they'd scare anyone at least a little.

"Well," she chittered, "I better head back to class."

I narrowed my eyes at her, but she was already halfway down the hallway, even though there was no point, there was only a few minutes left of the period.

I finally dropped my arms when she rounded a corner and was out of my sight. So, Wilhelmina was the one who sent out those messages about Indigo's father, and she was about to start another rumor that was sure to be worse than the last.

I mentally cursed myself for not listening to the rest of the conversation. I had the perfect opportunity to find out what Indigo was about to be shamed for next, and I missed it.

You're an idiot.

No shit, Sherlock.

Shut it, Watson.

The bell rang and students flooded the hallway, rushing to they're next class. Or more like sluggishly walking, no one was all that eager for sixth period. I could include myself in that belief, my next class was PE. I mean, fitness and all that shit comes easily enough to me, the coach is just a bitch and gets on my nerves. She's always shouting in that low pitched voice  she stole from Morgan Freeman about how slow we were and how weak we were being. Well maybe if she got off her lazy ass and actually, I don't know? Taught her fucking class, we would actually get better at fitness. The very thing she's supposed to be teaching.

Whatever, I was just glad when the bell rung. I hightailed it out of there, practically sprinting to the art room. Mrs. Hayes, the art teacher, didn't even spare me a glance as I ran in and threw my stuff down at my desk.

Indigo, on the other hand, gave me a weird look. Her bright hazel eyes bore into mine, as if they were taking apart whatever dark things comprise my soul. I don't think she'd like what she would find there.

But her eyes brought back a memory that was practically engrained into my mind now. Her soft lips lingering on my cheek, caressing it with the merest touch. Oh shit. The mental image was right in front of my eyes, and I couldn't stop the bright blush forming on the very place that she kissed.