PORTRAIT OF YOU | H.S.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

There was something therapeutic about watching Harry paint. He had grasped on to the small things I had taught him with water colors and learned to incorporate them even now with the oil paints. I felt even more overjoyed that he went on his walk and talked to Robin. I know to most, it wouldn't mean much; but I knew for Harry who hadn't full faced his step father being gone, it was everything.

Healing often leads to accepting, the same way that accepting leads to healing. You can't have one without the other, but it's how we find our acceptance, our healing, that varies from person to person.

I talked to my mum daily. Writing to her letter now on this trip, only adding to it. It was my healing. My way of accepting that she was gone. It didn't mean it was easy. It didn't mean it didn't hurt. It just helped me move forward and that's what I wanted for Harry. To move forward. For him to heal his wonderful heart.

I licked my lips, looking down at the desk, opening up my mum's journal to the back cover, pulling out the folded up drawings of Harry I had done so far. Sketches of his perfect parts, that made him my perfect Harry. My fingers moved gently over the sketches of his hands. His long slender fingers. I allowed my gaze to move back up to Harry, his hands, following the veins that lead up to his arms.

I licked my lips softly, pulling out my pencil from the middle of the journal, and a fresh piece of paper. I began outlining the shape of his arms, the mass of his muscles on them. Every divit, every curve, trying to capture every movement and the shadows and depth they caused. Every once in a while as I sketched, I felt his eyes on me, small smiles playing on our lips. I wondered how he would feel knowing I was drawing him, how every part of him had infiltrated my mind in so many ways. He was my perfect illustration, a story brought to life from mind and paper.

"I think I've done as much as I can without ruining your masterpiece," I heard him say, smiling over at me. I chuckled a bit, looking over at the painting.

"Honestly, I think we can move you up to the next bit of painting class tomorrow. I think you're ready to learn something new," I said as he placed down his painting brush and palette, wiping his hands on a cloth as he walked over to me.

"Well that's exciting, do I get something as a celebratory reward? For my obvious successes," he smirked, standing right in front of me as I closed my journal.

"Mmm, I think I can manage a kiss as a prize, but that's where my reward system ends for today," I giggled softly as he leaned in.

"I'll take it," he smiled, softly pressing his lips against mine, my lips curling into a smile as he kissed me. He pulled away, pushing my hair behind my ear, "Yup, best prize."

I felt myself blush, hugging my journal to my chest, "So I think I found what I want us to do today."

"Is that so? What did you have in mind?"

"A chocolate making class. They seem to usually be a tourist favorite, and I managed to find one that had availability. It's for couples, but, it was available," I bit my lips shrugging.

"Mmm, we can pretend to be a couple. Could be fun," he shrugged, making me roll my eyes. He laughed, throwing his hands up slightly, "What?! You don't think we can?"

I licked my lips, shaking my head, "Sounds like your typical romcom if you ask me. Friends with benefits, pretending to be a couple, always leads to some sort of heartbreak. I think you and I have plenty of that already."

"Why does it have to be heartbreak? Why can't it be...just fun. Why can't it end with a happy ending?" He raised his eyebrow, a soft tilt to his head.

"Because I don't know what a real happy ending is supposed to feel like, so, I settle for believing everything will end the only way I know, in heartbreak," I shrugged, placing my journal on the table.