Poems for strangers - Luke Hemmings
The tranquillity flowing around your head followed the lines you’d draw on your notebook smoothly, composing the silhouette of a posing man. Your stained hand would leave accidental charcoal spots as you slid the pencil over his body, shading the figure imperfectly offering a perfect purpose to it. I broke down your mountains, but never you I didn’t walk 13 thousand miles, but I would have walk 100 And to climb a mountain might have been fun, but your curves will always be my favourites The ghost of the melody danced between your ears as if a guitar was chasing after the words. A bass was added, trembling with your heart and then, came the drums as footsteps coming closer. As stomps grew closer, you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder. The lyrics fell down your back fading as you opened your eyes up to the new voice entering your headspace. “Hey!” he smiled stepping back, fearing the answer “Hi, uhm…I’m Luke.” The blonde haired boy stretched out his hand towards you and you friendly took it shaking it “Hi, there” you smiled confused, you not very used to random people introducing themselves. You were resting on the immensity of red cinema chairs, that the small venue, where you worked, had. Alone and happily enjoying your lunchtime sketching and humming bodies and lyrics, away from the burning hell that summer had to fill the streets with. “Ahm, you know, actually” he began, pushing the cushioned seat down to sit next to you “I’m part of this band, 5 Seconds of Summer, and I don’t know if you know us but we’re playing here at-” “I know.” you interrupted him unintentionally, making him stop with his arm up still point at the stage, where the band would play that night. “What? Wait, you listen to us?” his smile grew bigger as the guilt in your chest increased just as fast. You scratch the back of your neck, avoiding his blue eyes “Well, no… I just happen to work here” you smiled hoping he wouldn’t eat you out of anger “I know every artist who comes up in this stage, It’s kind of what I do” you laugh uncomfortably. He was so pretty, maybe if you’d have lied he would’ve kept smiling. Idiot. “Oh, you work here…” he sank a little into his chair and before he could speak you continue to try to make him feel better “I work here as a summer job, yeah. Sometimes I help with lights or sound, scenarios, but the thing that I’m known for is the calendar, I basically remind everyone of what’s happening” you laughed, and he smiled back sympathetically “I don’t really have time to listen to music outside these stages” He laughed loudly, as a sense of relief rushed through your body “Well, that’s a bummer, there’s a lot of amazing artists and albums out there nowadays” “I bet, but trust me, the only music I get to hear throughout the year is the same old boring ones my teachers insists on making me dance to.” your hands joined on your knees, tugging your notebook closer to you. He was such a taller presence next to you. You felt his strong cologne hugging your body making it impossible to forget, his pierced smile made momentarily your heart race and you felt your face grow warmer when you notice his dimples. “You dance in class? I don’t remember that being a thing back when I was your age” he joked. “I’m majoring in dancing, dumb head.” he hummed at you with a smile “‘Back when you were my age’ was like a week ago. You’re like what? 19?” “Close. I’m 20” his hand grabbed his chin, joking a seductive look “Guess I still keep my looks, huh?” you laugh hiding your face behind your hands “And you? How old are you?” “A strong 18 and a half years old, sir” you announced proudly. “So, does this 18 and a half ballerina have a name?” “I didn’t introduce my self, did I?” your cheeks burnt pink just as your bottom lip did, while Luke shook his head amused in the background “I’m Y/n, sorry” “You really don’t look like a dancer, Y/n” he bit his bottom lip next to his black piercing. Something tickled inside your belly before you replied “What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t have the ballet girl body?” His dimples deepened watching you smile “No, no. You’re perfectly fine. I just thought of you more like a musician.” You’re perfectly fine. “A musician?” you laughed. “That was actually the reason why I came to talk to you.” you watch his lips carefully following his hand movements as the voice that was meant to haunt your memory spoke “Me and my band are doing some gigs here and there but we’re trying to build a new album and we’re just looking for inspiration and different points of view of the world, you know. I was going to ask you if you write poems or even music.” the chant of his voice almost distracted you from the question, the one you blushed at, trying not to give away that in your hands were the pages that you filled with melodies, verses and doodles. “Well, I guess sometimes I do.” “Do ever shared them with anyone?” “Rarely, only when I think it’s decent enough” “What do you think of writing a poem or show me one of yours and I’ll arrange a song with it?” his blue eyes pierced your shiny ones to reach your soul, it was hard to deny such offer, but most importantly to deny such a man. “Really? Like you guys would sing and play it?” “Yeah, of course. That’s like the whole point of this album” his smile came up again. His black painted nails drummed against the armrest of the chair, his forearm led up to his bicep hugged tightly by the sleeve of his shirt. His collarbones poked out off out of the shirt’s collar and you felt yourself lost in burning cheeks again. He was beautiful. “That would be awesome” you smiled for the 100th time to him “I actually keep the poems I wrote in here” you looked down at the book in your hand, leading his eyes to it. Looking at it you felt embarrassed by the messiness of notebook: it was stained in its sides, had papers of different sizes folded in it and it was ridiculously fat “I need to get a new one”. “And you write 'sometimes’ you say?” he looked surprised at the notebook, resisting the temptation of open it immediately and read the creativity of the girl in front of him. “Well sometimes in a day, I guess.” you shyly replied. “I knew you wrote poems, you just have that vibe.” he laughed. You opened up the notebook you’ve never shown to anyone. All the thoughts that fill your mind orderer into rhyming sentences were overflowing that book. “I strangely trust you, Luke” you slowly search through the pages, looking for a poem that you were mildly proud of until you reached one about yourself and your journey as to accept you as you were. You apprehensively look at his royal eyes and something weird felt down your body. A sense of safeness excessed from his iris and his endearing smile felt like you were being held warmly behind your back. You hand him over the poem and you breathe deeply while he blandly mouthed your handwriting. After a minute he breath out the last words, startling you a bit “’I am worth it, I’ve always been’…” he took a moment to sink in your words and you sank in your chair out of embarressement “You know, it’s not that well written and maybe has a poor concept, I-” “This is beautiful, Y/n” he looked back into the mirrors and flowers doodle around the poem, completely aroused. You didn’t notice but your heart was pounding against your chest and didn’t know how to make it stop. You were out of words to say, you were not expecting a compliment, it also didn’t help the pulsation of your heart. You looked down at your now empty and vulnerable hands and the only thing you could think of came out in a whisper “It’s really personal.” Some long seconds went by until his sight left the poem noticing you and your flustered mess again. “Hey” his hand touched gently your shoulder unfocusing your thoughts “I’m a writer too, ok? You don’t need to be scared or embarrassed of what you feel. I do this all the time.” he pointed “It feels like I’m giving all of me to art but sometimes you just need it. You just need to get it out, for someone to listen. This is truly…” he didn’t finish and instead squeeze your arm looking at your soft smile. His eyes burnt your skin and you hid yourself behind your hands, leaning onto the armrest separating you both “I’m such a derp” you said. You heard him chuckled above you. But apart from the melody of his giggle playing in your brain, it was his arms around you that made you freeze in your place. His hands were hugging your back making your skin tickle and burn at the touch through your sweatshirt, your heart skipped a beat and you could hear it relaxing and slowing down again from the euphoric moment. Before he let go your arms travelled to his waist resting on his arms and almost magically, both of you pulled tighter in the hug at the same time, as a puff of his perfume filled your lungs. Here you were hugging a complete stranger, a stranger that had just read something you wouldn’t give to anyone and a stranger who made you feel better than any of your previous boyfriends did. His hand dived into your hair, brushed through it and as he slowly pulled off placed his hand on your cheek. Your head slid off his neck, but he didn’t push away. “Thank you for letting me read that poem. It’s beautifully written.” he whispered. You were inches apart, your noses almost touched and you could smell the mint toothpaste in his breath. Your eyes were stuck on his comforting voice and pink lips, just as his were on yours. But reality hit Luke softly and he looked down at the opened book on the armrest, as he leaned back your hand placed his biceps fell but he gently caught it holding it around his fingertips. You felt drugged, everything besides from you two was blurry, something stronger than anything you’ve remembered pushed you to him and you couldn’t see any disadvantages in that. With his other hand, he closed the notebook and it seemed like his voice hadn’t gotten deeper and sore, but still gentle "Will I see you tonight?” he asked rubbing his thumbs on your palm, the butterflies were ranging inside. “I wouldn’t miss it.” you looked up to him, forcing him to look back. Suddenly everything was crystal blue, but everything you could focus on was the trembling ocean that the blue would escape to show. His eyebrows furrowed as if he was in pain, as if he didn’t want to feel this way, as if he didn’t want to be this vulnerable again. He led your hand close to his mouth placing a long kiss on it, shivers electrocuted your whole arm. He let your hand fall on your notebook and stood up. You wanted to say something, something that would make him stay, but you couldn’t find a poem to ask and you couldn’t find a melody to sing. “Until then, beautiful.” he left with a smile, which only made you retribute it with another. As he walked out of the room, you looked back to the hand he just kissed. Your heart deeply pounded in your chest, the butterflies fond their way out and they were humming around your head, the lights on the stage seemed brighter and your body lighter. Did I just fell in love with a stranger? But he was no stranger, in your heart, you’ve known him for years.
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