The Artist

Chapter Nine

I come back from my relaxing bath to see my living space lit up with little candles. The radio's playing soothing music, right beside a beaming Scott.

"What's all this?" I smile, walking into his open arms. I can feel the familiar beating of his heart against my chest and smile.

"You haven't had it easy recently." He smiles back. "Now sit down on the ground and I'll give you a massage." He instructs.

I notice he's put a pillow on the floor in front of the couch, I guess he wants me to sit there. I plop down on the ground and he sits behind me, putting a leg either side of me.

He begins rubbing my back in circular motions... And it feels like heaven. I let a moan fall from my lips, forgetting myself and flushing immediately.

He stops rubbing my back and I frown. I turn around to see his flustered face.

"What's wrong?" I ask him. His eyes dart down to his tight trousers. I bite my lip to stifle my laughter.

"You were pushing against me..." He blushes.

I get up and sit on his lap, purposely teasing him. He wastes no time in kissing me. He fumbles with my T-shirt, trying his best to get it off as quick as possible. I giggle when he pulls me down on top of him, we reconnect our lips as he attempts to take off my bra.

"You left your- holy shit." I snap my head up to see Harry standing in the doorway, holding my goddamn first aid kit.

"Fuck." I cuss, grabbing my shirt. Thank God Scott is so terrible st removing clothing, if he had gotten my bra off this would be one hundred times more awkward.

He seems rooted to the spot, eyes unable to leave my body. Men. I pull my T-shirt on, I hear a ripping noise so now theres probably a massive hole in it somewhere.

"Harry get out?!" I snap, what the hell is wrong with him?

He shakes his head and turns on his feet muttering something that sounds like 'should've locked the door'.

"Shit." I sigh, putting my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. Can nothing just go right for me?

"You ok?" Scott puts his arm around me.

"I've never had so many awkward run ins with my boss." I breath out. It takes a while but we end up laughing at my own misfortunes.

"Let's go to bed?" He suggests and I nod eagerly. I need sleep. 

I brush my teeth and throw cold water over my face in an attempt to rinse off the troubles of the day. I walk into my room and climb in beside Scott. The sheets are cold and crisp against my clammy skin, instantly soothing me.

"We still haven't painted your living room." Scott says, resting his head on top of mine. Its a trait of his I noticed long ago, he pushes himself up to the top of the pillow to seem taller, so he can hold me properly when we sleep.

"Next time." I sigh. I feel him nod his head before he kisses me goodnight.

We don't speak after that, just drift off to sleep...

"Morning." I say blankly to Harry when I walk into his studio the morning after. I pray he doesn't make this awkward, or throw it up in my face, or tell everyone and make me the laughing stock.

He looks up at me, then looks back down at his book. He's reading? I never pictured him as the reading type? Then again, I don't know an awful lot about him.

"I'm sorry about last night. It-"

"Look, Ellen, I dont care when or where you and your boyfriend fuck." His foul languages catches me off guard and my mouth forms the shape of an 'O'.