A/N: The day has come! It’s this special Angel’s birthday! In celebration, here is a crappy and rushed series. I cracked the very last chapter out within like three hours, please forgive me for spelling errors or the poor quality ending.
Summary: After stumbling upon a piece of graffiti in a closed down video store, you gain interest in who might have made something so gorgeous in such a small town and try to put everything together to figure it out.
Warnings: brief mention of sex
Word count: 3596
It wasn’t exactly unusual to see graffiti all over the blank
white walls of buildings or hidden away in the dark alleyways between houses,
but it was always the same; either a racist blood red swastika or people’s tags
that were sloppily painted. Unlike your father, who was a police officer, you
really enjoyed the look of graffiti – if it’s actually art – and
you’ve always wished you had some form of artistic talent to be able to create
something so beautiful that doesn’t require words.
A recently closed down video store was to the right of you,
squished in between a technology store and a music store, its windows smashed
and its glass door cracked at the hinges. A hissing came from inside of the
building, your eyebrows shot up in surprise as you peeked inside slowly, your
head turning from left to right. It was completely dark inside, apart from the
centre of the room that was illuminated by the two small windows at the back of
Looking back and forth down the empty street, you climbed in
through the shattered windows and carefully stepped closer until you were able
to see somebody standing at the side wall that had been covered by a large
shelf. The light was shining on the wall, revealing a gorgeous cluster of
different hues that formed a soaring eagle, behind it were large black and
white mountains that looked oddly familiar.
The man, or woman, stood in front of the wall, their hand going
back and forth with a spray can as they coloured in a small section of the
mountain they had earlier painted. Whoever it was, they hadn’t known you had
entered the building yet, they must’ve been really into their work. It was so
much more beautiful than those horrific tags on the building beside it, and you
couldn’t help but stare at it in amazement.
Without thinking, you took another step closer to the wall, but
only happened to step on a couple of scattered glass that must’ve been from the
window. The artist turned around rapidly, but you weren’t able to see their
face as a hood covered their head. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” you said, your
eyes flickering back to the wall behind him, “I just wanted to see it. I-it’s
Judging by the voice, it sounded like it was a guy; a young one
at that. Although, his voice was muffled by mask over his mouth and nose that
was barely noticeable.
Believing that he knows you weren’t going to call the police,
you took another step closer, only for him to grab his stranded backpack and
run out of the back exit door. It didn’t surprise you that he ran, you probably
would’ve done the same thing.
You took a couple more steps
towards the wall until you had to lift your head to see the top of the
mountain, which had a miniature flag with a bumblebee on it. The eagle was
painted in a mix of blues, purples, pinks and yellows, and was almost as large
as the wall itself. The corners of your mouth curled into a small smile,
finally knowing that somebody around here might be able to change people’s
opinions of graffiti. This is art, not vandalism.