The Artist

Chapter Twenty Seven

I'm crying; I drew Zayn and (I think) it turned out well, so I posted it on insta and HIS AUNTIE LIKED THE PHOTO ICRY. Yeah, that's my inner lil artist popping out. Here we gooooo.....

Oh and this ones dedicated to Boo_banana_16 because her spam of comments always make me smile and she's a very lovely little lady!

I twist and turn all night, thinking about him. Well, it's a toss up between him and my surprisingly uncomfortable couch. I hope he got home safe. Of course he got home safe, I say to myself, he only lives down the hall for goodness sake.

As compensation for last nights events, I get up and make my mother and I breakfast. I scavenge through the cupboards and decide I'm making an omelet. I should do another shopping soon, I've gone through twice as much as usual on account of my mothers staying.. And constant hunger.

Just as I'm about to call her, my mother emerges in a sleepy, bed headed state.

"Morning!" I chirp and she smiles, stretching her arms out as she yawns.

"Good morning my little one." She kisses my forehead. "Mmm," she hums, smelling the omelet and bacon. "Looks wonderful."

I plate up the food and we sit down to eat. I notice my mother frowning and looking at the stool pulled out in the middle of the floor. Where Harry was last night.

"He didn't stay?" She asks and I shake my head no.

"I made him go home." I say quietly, feeling really embarrassed about the whole thing. My mother must feel disappointed in me. "I'm sorry you had to see him like that.... He's not usually..."

"Drunk?" She offers the word and I look down.

"Mmhmm." I pick at my bacon.

"He seemed very... Well Ellen, I really don't know what to say. He seemed very.. Interested in you." I can tell she's trying to find something positive to say.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he didn't once acknowledge me. Just you." She shrugs. I noticed that, but I didn't think much of it.

"He was probably too drunk to see you. Limited vision." I laugh and she joins. "I should probably go and see if he's ok later." I sigh, eating the last of my omelet.

"No you should not!" Momma pipes up, looking seriously at me. What's all this going to be about... "You wait for him to come here and apologise for arriving on your doorstep in the early hours pissed drunk!" She exclaims as if it's obvious. "The balls in your court Ellen." She smiles, putting her plate in the sink... Looks like I'm doing the dishes too then.

"I suppose." I say nonchalantly, I don't read into things that much. But I suppose what she's saying makes sense.

"Now, go shower and I'll do the dishes." She smiles. Ah, I've escaped dish duty.

"Thanks momma." I give her a quick hug and skip to the bathroom.

After my shower, I decide leave my hair to dry naturally, so basically I have to deal with a damp mess for a few hours.

I pull a blue sweatshirt over my head and my jeans, leaving my feet bare for the time being. I roll my eyes when the sweatshirt rolls off one shoulder, they neck hole is way to big on this. I probably should've taken it back.

I pad into the kitchen, shaking my hair out when I'm greeted with a shocking site.

Harry and my mother drinking coffee at my breakfast table. I stop in my tracks, my mouth forming and 'O' shape, but I quickly recover and shut it.