Butterfly [A Harry Styles Fanfiction] *COMPLETED WITH SEQUEl* {Book 1}

Chapter 15: The Things You're Afraid of

N/A: part 2 of the butterfly 6 days of Christmas is here !! Please vote and comment to tell me what you think. Xxxxx

Cami POV:

Regret coursed through my veins all five days since the masquerade. Not regret from the acts Harry and I indulged in, regret because I liked it. Who was I kidding? I loved it. The feeling I had when Harry and I touched was like a livewire. It was uncontrollable and limitless, to the ends where I had to fight to think rationally. As soon as his jade eyes met mine, all bets were off and I was under his control. I couldn't let myself feel that powerless with my feelings towards someone else again. Anytime I let myself be vulnerable, it had always gone awry.

Harry didn't seem like the type of guy to hurt me. Then again, they never did.

I felt guilty for the way I stormed off and left him with no explanation. I'm sure he was confused and like a coward I ran away from explaining what I was internally battling with. Even when he had sent me countless text messages wondering what he had done wrong, I ignored him. It wasn't him, it was me and as cliche as that sounded, it was the truth.

After the first couple text messages, I stopped reading them all together. They made me feel guilty that I couldn't explain why I had run away. I was scared and Harry was the mastermind behind my fear. I was never the type of person to discuss my feelings or feelings in general. I tended to ignore anything that bothered me until it didn't anymore, but five days had passed and I still felt as distressed as the night Harry and I took things a little further.

Despite my lack of attention or willingness to do work, I had my favorite class today and I wouldn't let a few jumbled feelings stop my education.

Advanced drawing was the only class I had that was actually based upon the creation of art, rather than the literary side of it. We drew things and that was pretty much it. No essays, no writing asignments, you draw your feelings and Professor Daniels was happy.

He was one of the few professors I had through the duration of my schooling that actually cared about his students. As he always said "Leave everything in the sketchbook" and those words alone got me though multiple times of distress.

Drawing was an escape, just like music or sports for some people. Drawing was stress relief that I never grew tired of and it was the perfect distraction for my predicament.

I was looking forward to whatever I would have to draw when I took my usual seat in the second row. Professor Daniels gave me a small welcoming smile, as he waited for the majority of the class to filter in.

Once we were all silent and our attention was on him, he proceeded to begin class.

"Today, we're going to delve in deep to each and every single one of you. The subject matter I will be giving you, will tell me more about you than a conversation ever could. Get personal, dig deep within yourself and make this piece meaningful. You have two hours and I want you all to draw something that you're afraid of. But not so fast, no spiders or clowns, something deep like dying or oblivion. You will be assessed on the validity of your subject matter and your technique. Good luck and remember, leave everything in the sketchbook."

I swear it was like he read my mind and assigned the one subject I tried to avoid. There were so many things I was afraid of, all satisfactory when it came to what he was really asking for. I knew what I had to draw and I also knew it was going to be difficult to admit within my drawings. My sketchbook was the one place where I only let in the good in my life. It would be odd to draw my biggest downfall, my fatal flaw.

I hesitantly opened to a fresh piece of paper and gulped down everything telling me not to let this all out. I didn't think I could stuff it back in again if I began to release this truth within myself.