The Artist

Chapter Seven

(I'm sorry if I didn't reply to your comment, my wattpad wouldn't let me for a while there! This is a short chapter, I'm sorry. I'm double updating tomorrow! Love you! Cx)

"Harry open this door!" I rap on the door, speaking loud enough for him to hear but not so loud as to disturb the neighbours. He immediately hears me because I can hear him say 'there's the girlfriend'. Paper thin walls. The neighbours probably have heard me then.

"Another man chasing you?" He smirks. I hope he doesn't mention almost kissing me to Scott. But I guess nothing happened so it doesn't really matter...

I fake laugh, "Fuck you Harry. Is my boyfriend here?" I ask him, he let's me in to see for myself. And sure enough Scott's standing beside Harry's couch, as if I didn't warn him not to come here.

"So. Scott, what is it you wanted to chat about?" Harry dives right into the conversation. This cannot end well.

"I want you to stop treating my girlfriend badly." Scott says without the slightest hint of a threatening tone.

"I will when you stop treating her like a child." He surprises me by saying. It's as if I'm not even here, they're talking about me like I'm not standing between them and I'm just mute as I watch this all unfold.

"I don't." Scott's face holds an annoyed expression.

"Well, from the time I've spent with her, I'm well aware she has a voice of her own and that she's not afraid to use it." I know it's weird, but I take that statement as a compliment from him. It's probably the closest thing to a compliment I'll probably ever get from him. "But, to be the bigger person. I'll make to a deal." Harry smiles smugly.

Scott folds his arms impatiently.

"I'll try being nicer, if you get your ass the hell out of my apartment." He snaps. I swear this guy's bipolar.

"Gladly." Scott scoffs, "come on Ellen, this guys a prick." Oh no.

"What'd you call me?" Harry takes a step towards him. This was bound to happen. I told Scott it would, why couldn't he just have listened to me?

"A prick!" Scott fires back.

Without much warning, Harry swings his fist at Scott and hits him straight in the eye. Scott fights back and clocks him right in the jaw.

"Stop!" I shout at them, frozen to the spot.

Harry tackles Scott to the ground, repeatedly punching him, but to my surprise Scott seems to beat him worse. I snap out of my trance and pull Harry back by the shoulders.

"Harry stop it please! Harry!"

He climbs off him we stands beside me, looking at my undoubtedly panicked face. His lip in cut and his nose is bleeding heavily.

I run over to Scott and help him up. We walk out the door and I look back once to see an expression on Harry's face that I can't decipher.

"Sit down." I instruct my boyfriend when we're back in my apartment. I point to the exact seat where Harry sat in the other night.

I retrieve the first aid kit from its new home on the kitchen counter. I take out the cool pack and place it over Scott's eye.

"It'll be bruised in the morning." I tell him. I'm so mad at him.

"You're mad at me aren't you?" Well, good guess genius.

"I can't believe you went over there." I sigh, putting a little plaster strip on the cut above his cheekbone.

"I'm sorry." He frowns, taking the cool pack off his eye.

"Keep that on your eye." I scold him, putting it back to where it was.

"Where are you going?" He asks as I walk to the door.

"He doesn't have a first aid kit." I shrug and hear him call 'you can't be serious' as I shut the door.

I knock on Harry's door for what seems like the hundredth time since I moved here. He opens it with a shocked look on his face.

"You don't have a first aid kit, right?" I half smile.

A huge cocky grin takes over his face as he shakes his head and laughs, letting me back in.

Looking at it now, his apartment is very well decorated. The white sofa, white carpet, grey concrete walls and black flooring make for a very contemporary look.

I run a cloth under the cold water tap to wash the blood from his face. "Come here." I sigh. He stands over me, his height rather intimidating. I can reach his face, but not well enough to fix him up with ease.

"Uhm..." I gesture to the height difference and he chuckles.

"Sit on the counter." He suggests. Good idea.

I wriggle up onto the cold marble and can reach his face much better. "Hold that to your nose," I say and hand him a paper towel. His nose has stopped bleeding but is still a little bloody nonetheless. I frown as I look at his knuckles, running my thumb over the rough and cut edges of his hand absent mindedly. He watches me do it, I can see it out of the corner of my eye.

"They're ok I think. They're just a bit red. You need to stop punching people." I say and look up at him. Busted lip. "This might sting." I say and wipe his lip with the alcohol. He doesn't move, just like last time.

"I'm sorry." I say and take him by surprise, he creases his brow in confusion. "I didn't ask him to come over here. I actually told him not to. I hope you believe that."

"I'm sorry too." He says. Well, I definitely wasn't expecting that. I give him a little smile which he returns. It's nice to see him smile, he doesn't do it very often. "You must hate me."

"Harry, I don't hate you." I say it and mean it. He looks surprised again, and a look flashes in his eyes.

"I don't hate you either. And while we're making confessions..." He leans forward so his lips are right by my ear. "I was lying when I said I wasn't going to kiss you." He brings his lips to mine, capturing me in a kiss.

I feel his tongue swipe across my bottom lip, requesting entrance which I gladly allow. I'm not thinking of anything other than him at this moment. Our mouths mold together as I feed my fingers through his hair. The sheer force of his kiss moves me back against the wall behind the counter. He moves closer in between my legs, sending electric pulses through my veins when our bodies meet.

I'm left breathless when I pull away, realising what I just did. I shamelessly wipe my hand across my mouth. "I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry." I say and hop off the counter, running out of his apartment, leaving my first aid kit behind.

I sit outside my apartment door for a while. What did I just do? I was so sure I hated him. Actually, I know I dislike him. And I know for sure he doesn't like me. Yes, perhaps he doesn't hate me per say, but he barely tolerates me. I can see that. And I believe what happened was simply a result of raised emotions. There's no other way to put it. Sometimes this happens, people are emotional, a little shocked and they do stupid things like kiss their boss. Just to avoid more awkwardness, I should try convince Zayn to go to that conference thing next Wednesday.

I get up and go inside, back to my boyfriend. He's standing over the hob when I get in.

"I thought I'd try make it up to you?" He smiles when I walk in. I stride over to him and kiss him. He's surprised but gladly kisses me back. I smile, feeling the familiarity of his lips and touch.

I won't tell him about what happened. Because it ment nothing, it means nothing.

"Let's just forget everything about today Scott." I say, meaning more than he thinks.