The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From The Tree

Twenty Two

Chapter 22

Vinetria's Pov

I tried to roll over and close my eyes; let sleep take me once more before I had to actually get up for the day when my phone buzzed from my bedside table.

My eyes popped open, too curious to stay closed as I blindly reached for it.

That could be him.

I tapped the screen and squinted at the notification I received less than a minute ago. It was him.

[7:45 am]

Harry: Good morning Vinetria. Hope your day's starting off better than my coffee; cold and neglected.

I smiled, hugging the phone to my chest before quickly sitting up, rereading his message. Cold and neglected coffee. Why can I picture him saying that? Also, his black coffee is already so sad. I can't imagine it being cold.

[7:45 am]

Good morning. You're up early... or did you not sleep?

I'll make sure my matcha doesn't feel as neglected as your coffee.

I added a winking emoji because I know he doesn't like matcha. It was too early for my brain to be working so this light teasing will have to do.

[7:46 am]

Guess we'll see who's more caffeinated when we talk next.

I added a third text, unashamed and pressed send.

I set my phone face-down on the bedside table, satisfied. It wasn't overly flirty, but it left him space, just enough for him to wonder when exactly "next" would be.

I rolled over, closing my eyes with a smile when I heard another buzz.

[7:46 am]

Harry: Sleeping is overrated anyway. But coffee... Emphasis on coffee! Is sacred.

Harry: Looking forward to seeing if you can keep up.

I didn't bother responding. I was now able to fall back asleep and enjoy the rest of my morning the way I liked; sleeping.

-

In the afternoon, I made my way over to my mother's gallery. She said she needed help catching up with admin stuff. I offered to do it from home but she insisted that I come in. Since my school assignments were all done, I figured I had some time on my hands. So, I'm now sitting behind the reception desk, the rhythmic clacking of the keyboard blending with the faint echo of footsteps in the wide, airy space. I was buried in scheduling emails when my mom's voice floated in from across the room.

"Vin, can you come help with the lighting in Studio B?"

I sighed, pushing back from the desk. "Sure... What's going on in there?"

My mom shrugged, leading the way but I could tell she was up to something. "Just a figure study for one of the artists. Nothing you haven't seen in a textbook."

Nothing I haven't seen in a textbook? What does that even-

She pushed the door open to Studio B and I froze.

There stood a tall, ridiculously handsome man in a silk robe, chatting easily with a woman arranging a massive canvas. The air smelled faintly of turpentine and coffee.

"Ah, yes!" My mom chirped. "You remember Ian, right? He's modeling for Harper today. Just help adjust the softbox lights, will you?"

I mutely nodded, moving toward the equipment while sneaking a glance at him. He looked different in the studio lit room, and partially naked. Broad shoulders, strong jawline, that relaxed, self-assured smile.