Chapter 25 - A Question

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I didn’t know what we were. I didn’t know if he was my boyfriend, or my friend. It felt like so much more than just a friend. He’d pick me up every morning for school, we’d have breakfast sometimes, we’d go out to dinner, and we’d have lunch every day together in the art room. He was showing me even more of his paintings, and talking a bit more about his mother, never his dad. I was growing to really care for him. I was growing to love having his eyes on me, his voice in my ears and his heat near me. I was growing to enjoy every second of his company, and looking forward to it just as much.

I was cleaning my room; it was very early Sunday morning. My whole family was up, my mom knocking on my bedroom door. “Hi,” she smiled.

‘Hey,” I dumped clothes into my hamper. She walked over to it.

“This isn’t yours.” She held up the black hoodie.

“No, um, it’s Harry’s. He let me barrow it, when he dropped me off. It was kind of cold when he let me use it.”

“Ah, along with all these?” she held up some of his other clothes. I smiled and nodded. “Is this boy your… boyfriend!” she shouted.

I laughed. “Um, maybe? I don’t really know. We’re not into labels right now.”

Suddenly I heard a honk. I got up, looking out my window. There was Harry Styles, leaning against his truck with a smile. He waved me down.

“I’m going to go hang out with Harry,” I grabbed a jacket, it was still cool out. The snow had now melted, but it didn’t stop the cold air. “Hi,’ I smiled after I sprinted out to see him.

“Morning,” he leaned down and pecked my lips. I admired him, wearing a basic long sleeve gray sweater and blue jeans. “I wanted to know if you’d like to go on an adventure.”

“I’d love to.”

“Then climb in,” he opened the door for me and started around on the other side. I got in, buckling up. I noticed all his drawing and painting equipment in the back.

“Where are we going?” he just smiled, and ignored me. He drove and drove; we went out to the Grove. “I’ve been here.”

“When?”

“With um, with T-Taylor and all them.” He nodded.

“They didn’t take you to my spot.” He got out of the truck, grabbing his things. I followed him, lagging a bit. We went off the trail.

“Do you know where you’re going?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

I sighed, and kept following him and following up these hills. The trees were already green, so was the ground. It was so beautiful; it got even better when the trees opened up to the top of an amazing hill. You could see for miles, it was untouched landscape, the most stunning views.

“Wow,” I breathed out.

“Cool, isn’t it?” he dropped his things, and set up his easel. “I thought you’d like it.”

“I do, what are we doing?”

“You,” he took my shoulders, and put me in front of the landscape. ‘Are you going to laugh for me.” He held up a camera.

‘What?” I smiled.

“Just do it,”

‘Tell me a joke.”

“Hmm,” he thought. “Knock knock,”

“Who’ there?”

‘Isabelle,”

“Isabelle who?”

“Is-a-bell broken or something? How come I have to knock?”

I laughed at the lame joke, he snapped the photo. “Why did that happen?” I said after I finished laughing. He took out a thing of sharp looking pencils.

“I need a cheerful piece for my assignment with Mrs. Hollas, she makes me do them every now and then so she knows I’m not all dark and twisted up. I knew you’d be the perfect person to draw.” He set the camera up to the top of the easel, looking at it closely. “I thought you could keep me company while I drew.”

He had a seat on the ground, lowering the stand. I joined him. “Why does she think you’re dark and twisted up?”

“I only do paintings of my father’s suicide; of course she’d think that.” He smiled, and began drawing.

“Is that why you don’t show people your work?” he nodded. “It’s why you won’t enter it?” He nodded. “He died when you were ten?” he nodded, his eyes on the canvas. “What um, do you remember him?”

“A few things.”

“Such as?”

“Finley,”

“I want to know you,” I laced my arms around his forearm, leaning my head on his shoulder. I could feel it flex as he drew. “I… I have a bit of a crush on you.”

He smiled. “I had no idea,”

“Obvious?” I blushed.

“A bit,” he kissed the top of my head.

“You are so affectionate with me. But you act like this disgruntled person to everyone else.”

“It goes back to what you said; we’re kind of the same person. I relate to you.”

“So talk to me,” I half whispered.

‘My dad… was a good dad as far as I can remember. I mean, he was never happy, but he always was there for me. He was a good man. I cared for him.” I nodded. “Satisfied?”

“For now,”

“For now, oh joy,” he sighed.

I watched him draw for so long, the detail was mind blowing. I thought it was a photo. He was drawing my eyes now, that’s all he had so far of me. The landscape was just about done.

“Want to help?” he asked.

“I’ll wreck it.”

“No, you won’t,” he unwound me from his arm. “Sit,” he patted his lap. I smiled, unable to resist happy Harry. I sat in his lap; he laced his legs around me, and one of his arms. He slipped a green pencil for part of the landscape in my hands. He put his hand over top of mine. ‘So,’ he spoke low in my ear. “You’re going to finish off the landscape in this corner.” I nodded. He slowly started guiding my hand, while keeping the other hand along my waist.

“Am I your girlfriend?” I breathed out as I nearly finished the corner, well, as he did. It just jumped right out of me.

“Girlfriend?”

“Y-Yes, I know… neither of us has had a relationship. But… I’d like to know where I stand with you.” he unwound his body from mine. I leaned away from him a bit, he laid in the grass. I climbed up onto his torso, looking down at him. He propped his knees up, I leaned on them. “Was that a bad question to ask?”

“No, it needed to be asked.” I nodded. “You want to be my girlfriend, even though you don’t know all of me just yet?”

“Is that stupid?” I laughed nervously, playing with my hands. He set his on top of mine, making me stop. I looked at him.

“No, it’s not, it’s surprising.”

‘Well… I don’t think so.”

He was staring; all the while my heart was racing out of my chest. I knew I didn’t know all of Harry, but… it didn’t matter to me. I just wanted him.

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