sitting pretty ∞ h.s

chapter nineteen

nineteen

I made sure that my footsteps wouldn't be heard as I made my way down the hallway. I planned to revisit the room that was covered in large, painted canvases and had an unfinished sculpture in the middle of the room. I knew that all of the art was Harry's, though, he didn't seem proud of his art due to the fact that he's never taken out the time to show me this room. I had to find out myself by exploring.

I stood in front of the door, wrapping my hand around the cold doorknob handle and turning it quickly to prevent any noise. I swung the door open swiftly and closed it behind me, the only sound in the process was the clicking of the door when it closed. I breathed, looking around the room. It was too dark to exactly see his art, I could only outline the canvases. I felt my way around until I reached the closed curtains, pulling them open simultaneously. The sun shined brightly through the window and I blinked a few times to regain my vision that had momentarily blurred.

I turned around, my eyes landing on a large painting that hung on the white wall. I looked at the face closer, seeing that it was a women that looked a lot like me...

My eyes widened when I realized the painting was me, the bright colors he used to paint my face made it hard to make out. But if you looked hard enough, you could see my face. I choked, a feeling of joy overwhelming me. I didn't think he would ever bother to paint me, to use one of his talents to make me a piece of art. My heart swelled at the thought and my eyes darted to the next picture on the wall.

The picture was explicitly detailed, the canvas was long vertically but the sides weren't as wide. There was two people, red filled the background, but their bodies were pale. The female of the picture had her arms hooked around the male's neck whilst he had his hands on her hips. Their bodies were naked, but I couldn't see any private body parts since they were much too close. I was glad I couldn't see the body parts though, it helped me focus on the entire picture.

My eyes went back to the picture of me involuntarily and I couldn't help the growing smile upon my lips. I folded my arms over my chest, looking at the painting with interest. I couldn't believe that Harry would take the time to paint my face with so much detail and so many colors, I could only imagine the time it took for him to finish the artwork.

My hand slapped onto my chest when I heard a voice suddenly start speaking, "I see you've found my art room. And the picture of you." Harry said and I was relieved that his mother hadn't caught me in this room again. He walked towards me, his hair damp from the shower he must've taken. I smiled shyly at him as he pulled his shirt over his head. I knew he'd been trying to tease me, there was absolutely no point of him roaming the halls and waiting to find me so he can pull his shirt over his torso whilst I watched. He could've gotten fully dressed in the bathroom.

I ignored him as he stepped closer to me, "You're very talented, you know." I smiled, looking at the entire wall of art.

"It's just a hobby. I don't plan to make anything of it." He explained, pushing his hands into his pockets as he overlooked his art along with me. His eyes stared at the canvases with boredom and I smiled at him.

"Who're you sculpting?" I pointed at the unfinished sculpture in the middle of the room. I imagined it was his mother as he looked at it with adoration.

"You." He turned to look at my face. I internally squealed, being that I'd be on two pieces of his artwork that only him and I would be able to see. I stared at him with wide eyes, my lips parting in a lost for words. I pressed my palms over my mouth as I looked up at the clay that made up the sculpture. I breathed heavily, wanting to cry for an unknown reason.

Harry's features turned into worry once he saw my expression, "Charlotte, are you okay? Did I say something? Please don't tell me I did..." He said regretfully. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he really didn't want me to be mad at him, but I was everything opposite.