Artwork [h.s]

twenty-nine

I widened my eyes at his words. "Uh..." I looked at him, realising that I had no idea of what to say. It would've been common sense to explain the reason behind my actions or say I was sorry, but the truth was, I didn't feel like I owed him any explanation, and I surely wasn't sorry for ditching that awful date to spend the rest of the night with Harry.

He let out a distressed sigh at the lack of answers on my side. "What the hell, Sierra. What does Harry have that makes him so interesting? He's playing you, that's what he does! He will leave. You know he will."

I looked at the wall behind him, trying to find something good to reply to him, but I realised I didn't need to when I felt a faint touch on my arm as someone stepped next to me. I looked down, trying my best not to blush when I recognised the smell of his cologne.

"Is there a problem?" Harry asked while staring straight into Aiden's eyes, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Aiden glared at him in return, but decided it would've been best not to start a fight in the hallway. "Whatever" he mumbled, walking past us and going away.

"Funny how he dislikes me so much, and I don't even know the guy's name" Harry said lowly, making me chuckle.

"He's Aiden" I said, walking inside the cafeteria, and he shrugged, walking next to me.

"I'd remember it if it was the littlest bit relevant" he deadpanned, and I bit my lower lip to keep a small smile to form on my lips at the shortness of his answer.

•  •  •

Later that day, I opened the door as soon as Harry rang the doorbell, not wanting to make him wait too long in fear that he would've left. I scooted to the side to allow him to walk in, giving him a half glance as he stepped inside and swiftly removed his coat.

I walked up the stairs with him following me, glancing around my bedroom to try to understand what would've been the best position to draw him in. My teacher wanted something that would've been at least somewhat artistic, which drastically diminished my possibilities in that room. I sighed when I realised that the only place that would've allowed me to give some kind of artistic cut to my drawing was my bed.

"You can go on my bed" I said faintly, watching as he took off his shoes and sat down on my bed, crossing his legs and waiting for more directions.

I leant against the side of my desk, trying to find out how to draw him in a way that wouldn't have been just repeating my last few drawings. "You can" I said, "uh, you could..." I let my words drift off when I realised I had no idea of how to do it that time, letting out an exasperated sigh. "I feel like I've already done everything" I said, hopelessness in my voice.

"You could draw me shirtless."

I snapped my head up at the sound of Harry's voice, frowning at the weird offer.

He was giving me an enigmatic look from where he was sitting on the bed, waiting for me to say something.

I thought about it for a few seconds, not taking long to realise that was probably one of the few ways I hadn't drawn him in yet. "Alright" I said, almost whispered, in the end, and he stood up.

I turned around as he took off his shirt, feeling as if it was too intimate of an action to look at him as he did it. I nervously played with my pencil, tapping it on the desk, my lower lip held between my teeth as I looked out of the window, the faint reflection of the room behind me against the white sky. I heard the mattress squeak softly as Harry sat down on it, telling me that he was indeed done. I took a deep breath, willing myself to behave nothing less than what was strictly professional once I would've turned around.