Chapter 22 - An Opportunity

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Hey guys! I can't wait for you to see these chapters, Harry really drops the bomb soon! Thanks for reading, I really hope you vote/comment/share!

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I smiled at him; he smiled back, his dimples out on his face. I don’t know why but that made me so happy. My head would get all fuzzy; my heart would skip and jump in my chest. My stomach would have this weird sensation, like fluttering. He always made me feel like that, and smile so big my cheeks hurt. I never felt anything like that before.

“Finley you suck,” he laughed loudly. “It might be water color but,” he put his hand on mine. “You don’t need to soak the page.”

“Well sorry Mr. Artist.” He just shook his head, going back to his black and white charcoal sketch. He was actually showing me his work. He’d never, ever tell me what it meant, but it was nice to watch him create something amazing out of nothing. It felt like a new form of connection, since I knew, he hardly shared this with anyone if at all.

“You have so much talent.” I stared in wonder of the abstract piece.

“This is shit,” he smiled.

“It’s not, at all Harry.”

‘You want it?”

“I’d love it. It’s Harry Styles original, you have to sign it.” He rolled his eyes. “Come on,” I nudged him.

He shook his head and signed it. He sprayed something on it to keep it from smudging. “There you are.”

“Thank you very much.”

I looked up at him with a smile again; he rubbed his fingers free of the charcoal and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “I could draw you, a million different ways.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“It is, you have that face that never gets old.”

My heart skipped a beat. He slowly leaned in and kissed me gently. I heard the whole room silence, literally. He stood up with a small smile and walked into his little space Mrs. Hollas gave him and he came back, I was still blushing. I hadn’t ever really been around intimate affection before but… I enjoyed it so much.

Our teacher came over, tapping her fingers on the table.

“Hey Karen,” He was on a first name basis with her, which I found odd.

“Harry… I love this whole… happy teenage love stuff but do you mind not kissing in my class? You’re making the under classmen girls drool and I really want them to work.” I looked up, sure enough; they were eyeing him like mad.

“I’ll keep the PDA to a minimum.” He smirked at her, she returned it.

“Have you told Finley here of my offer?”

“No,” he stiffened.

“What offer?” I asked.

“I’ll be happy to tell her.”

“No,”

“Go wash brushes, teacher’s orders.” He glared and got up, huffing away. She sat across from me with a smile. “Now, you seem to be really changing the game. That is my favorite and most talented student. There is this amazing, amazing opportunity for a scholarship in Richmond in a major gallery. He just has to enter one piece, one and he could win. I know he could win. He has the talent, the eye, all of it but he refuses.”

“How good is this scholarship?”

“Four years paid in full to any institution of art.” My jaw dropped. “Yeah, it is killing me inside knowing he is throwing that away. Please, you’re literally the first person he has talked to in four years at this school. You’re doing something different, please talk to him?”

“Of course, he’s a moron to pass that up.” She smiled and left. Harry huffed and sat beside me. I opened my mouth.

“Not a word. I will not enter anything. No scholarship, nothing you can say or do to change my mind. I don’t want you nagging me like her. Not a damn word about it.” I frowned, hating his tone. I was still sensitive, still anxious about things like that. He groaned as I hung my head. “You can’t play the shy, stutter girl card. It’s not fucking fair.”

“Y-Yeah well d-don’t give me tone.” I mumbled.

“Don’t hide in your shell.”

I looked up. “You won’t y-yell again?”

“I didn’t yell at all.” I gave him a look. “I won’t use tone. Fair?” I nodded.

“Harry… why won’t you try? Is it a fear of losing? You are so a-amazing. You should try, I mean, who cares if you don’t w-win? Who c-cares? You still get to go to Richmond and see your work in a gallery.”

“It’s much more complicated than that. Now, we are done with this.” He got up. “The bell is about to ring,” he picked up my paints for me. “Careful with the charcoal it could still smudge.”

I grumbled to myself, sighing, I knew I wouldn’t give up. How could I? He has been such an important part of my life, how could I let him throw that chance away? He had pure talent, he couldnt' waste it. I wouldn't let him.

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