Opposites Attract (Harry Styles/Hariana Fanfiction) | AU fiction

Harry: I was her Hope

Chapter 12: I was her Hope

Harry

"Come on in, class. Take a seat." Mr Monroe shouted at the sea of students pouring into his classroom.

I was lucky I was about a foot away from him, or else I may not have heard him at all above the loud buzz of chatter in the art room. Although that did mean he shouted right near my ear and, to be frank, that wasn't pleasant at all.

God, that man had a loud voice ,although his greying hair, small gold glasses and friendly wrinkled face didn't let on so.

He had a very strange sense of fashion, Mr Monroe. He always wore a metallic blazer and trousers with a silky texture and a bold coloured t shirt. Today's outfit consisted of a bluey-silver suit with a bright purple button up.

Hmmm.

But I'm the boy who wears ripped skinny jeans and over-sized t shirts, so I really can't talk.

I bustled past the other people to my seat beside Ariana and beamed at her. She smiled up at me, but trust me, years of living with two women meant I was an expert at deciphering 'women feels', so I knew something was off straight away.

I landed my large black bag on the table ( Note to self: change your bag, dammit.) and sat down on the stool, pulling up my denim jeans up.

"Hey." I whispered to her.

She didn't respond, much to my disappointment. Ariana rested her chin in the palm of her hand and stared blankly towards Mr Monroe. Her and I both knew she wasn't concentrating on his lesson. She was right there sitting next to me, but her mind wandered off somewhere else and it was affecting her.

"Hi?" I tried again.

She seemed to have put her ears to use this time, because she turned her head to face me and waved, but with forced enthusiasm. What was bothering her today?

"Ariana..." I said with a twinge of concern laced in my voice.

I liked her name. Ariana. It rolled off my tongue so easily and sounded so exotic, so tropical compared to my boring, normal name.

Why couldn't my name be, I don't know, Pedro? Pedro. Yes, Pedro Styles.

I sighed inwardly. Shut up Harry.

Pedro.

I raised a middle finger up at myself in my mind. I had such a stupid conscious. My name is Harry, I reminded myself. Plain Harry.

Ariana got bored of the art lesson pretty easily, which was surprising since she obviously had an interest in art, and proceeded to gaze forlornly out of the window.

I suddenly couldn't concentrate on the lesson either because something in the back of my mind was striving to know why she was looking so fed up.

That's the right use of words. Fed up.

"Ariana!" I said louder, nudging her arm with my elbow.

She hummed in response and looked at me with her eyebrows raised.

"What's up? You look upset." I said in a hushed voice over Mr Monroe's booming voice.

I observed her reaction. Yes, there was definitely something up. Her usually bright hazel eyes had lost their spark and were cast downwards and were sort of tired, I guess. Well, they do say that your eyes are the window into your soul.

"Nothing. Why would anything be wrong?" she scoffed, mocking herself.

My fingers embraced her wrist gently, causing her to look up into my eyes.