Italy In The Spring [h.s]

27

Aurora's P.O.V

So that's how Harry knows Sierra.

They were in a relationship. Interesting.

I can't help but feel jealous. Not only because I'm finding out Harry was with someone else after me, but I'd also be stupid to think he hadn't been. Plus, I'm the one who was in one for two years, so really how mad can I be? I have no right.

So it's not completely because of Harry being in a relationship. It's because of her. The one who forcefully and openly tried to ruin my relationship with Niall. Who threw herself at him every time she saw him, even going the extra mile and trying to get him to cheat on me when I wasn't around.

The fact she somehow got with Harry is rather odd to me. Because what the hell are those chances?

"So, Harry!" Ivy's voice drags me out of my train of thought. One that had been plotting Sierra's murder. "Tell us how your paintings have been going! Olly is still the biggest fan of yours and never shuts up about you. He takes a lot of inspiration from you, you know."

I try to hide my knowing smile, recalling how Oliver would hesitantly ask about Harry every time I visited home or they would visit me. I didn't mind. I knew how much he looked up to Harry, so when Oliver continued to follow Harry's artwork, it was some sort of comfort in knowing how he was doing.

"Ivyyy," Olly's face flushes red and I cover my smile with my hand.

Harry laughs softly from across the table and I catch a glimpse of the light in his eyes. "I won't lie, I've been keeping up with yours as well," he responds and I instantly perk up, not knowing he had been doing that.

Olly has the same reaction that I do, his eyes widening, "What? Seriously?"

"Yeah. I remembered what college you attend and have been keeping tabs on your artwork," Harry says easily and my eyes instantly fill with tears. "I'm thoroughly impressed. I think you might be better than me."

"Oh, absolutely not," Olly shakes his head, an embarrassed flush spreading across his cheeks. "I do take a lot of my inspiration from you though. Your most recent showcase called um... I'm not good at French so pardon this. Em, 'Reviens vers moi, mon amour.'"

After that night I left him in Paris, I refused to look at any more of his exhibitions or any paintings at all. I didn't want to be reminded of how much he still loved me. I guess I thought maybe if I didn't see it, it meant he stopped loving me and had moved on. Somehow, it made me feel less guilty for being with Timothée, thinking that Harry had found a new muse and moved on from me.

"Correct," Harry responds.

"Which translates to, if I remember correctly, 'Come back to me, my love.' Right?"

God was I wrong for ever believing he had moved on.

The tears I had been trying to hold back escape and I quickly wipe them away, hearing Harry hum a yes back to Olly in response to his translation.

"They truly are breathtaking," Olly says enthusiastically before glancing at me. "Even if they are all of my sister. Like... literally all of them."

I laugh softly and shake my head, forcing the tears away and trying to look as if I'm not bothered by this conversation, "Don't be silly, Oliver. They're not all of me."

"Yes, they are," Harry replies instantly. A jolt of electricity runs through me as I turn to lock my eyes with his. "They're all of you like I told you before."

He did tell me. In the kitchen that night when neither of us could sleep.

From the corner of my eye, I notice how everyone is looking at us. Confused and eager to see where this goes. Everyone except for my mom, Niall, and Gemma believe I'm still with Timothée. Liam and Louis are sitting with their shoulders tightened, not really having expected this dinner to have gone this direction.