Heavenly // h.s.

chapter 09. sinful painting

The forbidden room wasn't that mysterious. It was just a dark room with large curtains hung over two giant windows, which Harry opened, letting the light flow into the room. There were bunch of unfinished canvases leaning against the wall and bunch of finished paintings hung on the wall with no particular pattern.

"Just take your clothes off and sit on the couch," Harry said as he looked for his art materials.

I didn't expect him to be serious about this. I didn't think he was going to see me naked so quickly. I've been naked before, but it felt weird in front of Harry. Probably because he's engaged to my own sister.

"This isn't weird for me, Scarlet," Harry said, getting me out of a trance. "I painted about a hundred naked women just last month."

"Well, I didn't care anyways," I proudly lied as I pulled my t-shirt over my head.

I unhooked my bra and let it fall to the ground. I reached for the zipper of my jeans and swiftly pulled it down. I grabbed the waistband of my underwear and pulled it down my shaved legs. I lied down on the couch comfortable, knowing I would be there for a long time. My body was facing the red ceiling, but my head was tilted to look straight at Harry.

"Are you done?" Harry asked, his head lifted to look at me.

"Yeah."

I didn't miss the small tint of rose growing on his tan face. He quickly looked away and started to sketch on his canvas. Seeing him embarrassed made me embarrassed too. I don't know why it bothers me so much that he's looking at me naked.

"So, what style are you going for?" Harry asked like a professional... since he was.

"I don't know, whatever you see fit when you see me like this," I said with a shrug.

The silence was boring me to death. I knew I wouldn't be able to lie down still if I didn't talk or do anything. I opened my mouth and let the words flow out automatically.

"Do you know who you're marrying?" I suddenly brought up, staring at Harry's busy hand.

Harry slowly looked up and stared right into my eyes. There was a sense of mystery tangled with his gaze.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, his eyes back to the canvas.

"Like, you know what kind of people we are?" I started to clarify.

"Why, are you a serial killer?" Harry jokingly asked with a smirk.

"Some might say that," I whispered loud enough for him to hear. "Everyone has a story, y'know."

"Want to know mine?" he asked, his voice more serious.

"Sure."

"I saw my parents die," he said. He and I both stayed silent to his words. The sound of his brush against the rough canvas was the only noise.

"What happened?"

"My mom had pancreatic cancer when I was twelve, so she was slowly dying right in front of my eyes. And my dad and I got in a car accident when I was nineteen, and he was bleeding out right next to me," Harry told me nonchalantly.

"Does that have any relation to why your an artist now?" I asked.

"Maybe, but I think trying to make my parents' deaths deep or something's bullshit," Harry bitterly said, his voice laced with toxic. "They just died, nothing more, nothing less."

I nodded at his words as he continued to paint.

"Are you curious of my story?" I asked him.

"I'm not sure," Harry truthfully answered.

"What does that mean?" I laughed.

"I imagine you as the fun child, the quite opposite as your serious sister. If your story's depressing, I'm not sure if I can see as simple as I do now," Harry hummed, his eyes connecting with mine. "I need simple people in my life, my life's complicated enough."

"I guess you wouldn't want to know my story then," I said as I looked to the plush carpet.

And then another silence fell. But this time, it felt different. In the past, I hated the mere thought of silence. Just the fact that behind the silence might be pain, happiness, anger I can't understand makes me feel suffocated. I guess I'm like Harry. I don't need complications in my life. I need honestly and clear lines. Not if's or maybe's. Just yes or no.

It felt nice to talk with him. And the silence I felt with Harry was different this time. I could see Harry through the silence.

He's quite charmingly broken.

And I shouldn't have tried to fix those broken shards.