We were in my studio again, painting just like the day before in order to finish the project on time.
I looked up from the swirls of my brush on the white paper, glancing at Harry's figure from under my eyelashes. I didn't dare to look at his face, not wanting him to notice that my attention was on him, instead of what it was supposed to be on.
He held the brush lightly, a delicacy in his hold that was easily transmitted in the careful strokes of paint on the sheet between us. No rings were on his fingers, a faint hint of what he was to do when we would've finished.
I didn't dare to say a word, not wanting to break the suspenseful air surrounding us. I still had no idea of what had happened the day before. To my surprise, that morning I'd found him in front of my house again, as if nothing at all had happened. As if he hadn't escaped from my house all of sudden. I hadn't asked him anything, and he hadn't shared anything. It was as if the day before hadn't even happened. I didn't know if I should've just ignored it and moved on, or if I should've asked him about what had happened. In doubt, I stayed silent. I didn't want him to run away just like he had done the previous afternoon.
A sudden ring broke the silence, and I looked down as his head snapped up, not wanting him to know I was looking at him. A few seconds went by, in which we stood motionless, and then he reluctantly took his phone, that was on the dresser on the side of the room - forgotten until then. I let my eyes rest on him as he stared at the screen, an unconcerned look on his face, part of me wondering if he would've picked it up.
The phone went silent in his hand all of sudden, way too fast for it to be normal. He silenced it, and put it back on the wooden surface.
I watched as he neared the table again, waiting to see if he would've said anything about it at all.
He took the brush again and cleaned it by dipping it in the water under my glance, drying it up with a piece of paper on the side carefully. "It was Niall" he said all of sudden, not looking up. He weighted the brush in his hand, before dipping its tip in the orangish paint we'd mixed on a plastic dish some time before. "He gets like this at times."
"Maybe he really is just worried about you" I replied, not really knowing what else to say. It was clear to me that Niall only wanted to keep in check Harry, and it wasn't a bad idea, considering everything that had happened recently.
"He's been obsessing over what I do for four years. I'm done with it" he said sharply, lifting his brush from the sheet as he spoke.
I glanced at him, not saying anything, but knowing that he was getting pissed. I quickly thought of something to say to save the situation, but sighed lightly when I realised I didn't know him enough to know the right thing to say to him in that moment.
He sighed, dropping his brush in the water and putting his hands on the desk, but not looking up. "Sorry. I didn't mean to snap" he said quietly. "I..." He passed his thumb over a yellow stain on the plastic sheet I'd put over my wooden desk not to ruin it while we were painting. "I was into some pretty bad stuff some years ago" he shared quietly. "That's why he's... like this." He carefully glanced up when he was done speaking, observing my reaction.
I nodded, feeling as if nothing I could've said would've been the right thing, putting my brush to the side as well.
He looked down again, picking his brush up and cleaning, the sudden action making him seem somewhat distracted. "That's also why they put me in the same school as Niall." He passed his thumb over the brush, checking if it was actually clean before putting it aside again. "I feel... observed, at times."
"You came into our school like two years ago or something..." I said, trying to place everything he was sharing, looking at him as he passed his fingers through his dark hair.
"Yeah, I got kicked out of my previous one" he replied, surprising me. He didn't talk about himself often, and from what I'd gathered in the few months I'd known him for, he didn't like to talk about himself at all. For that reason, it was certainly unusual for him to share that much, but I didn't really mind it. It was nice to finally get to know something about him.
I frowned. "Why?" I asked, genuinely curious to hear his answer - if he would've given one at all. From the little I knew about him, I knew he was good at school, so I couldn't fathom how he'd managed to get kicked out of a school. It isn't something that happens easily.
"Do you really want to know?" He asked confusedly, finally looking up at me just in time to see my little nod. "Uh" he said, letting out a little chuckle, "I smoked pot under the teachers' lounge window with Zayn and then told my maths teacher to get laid when she shouted at us."
"Oh my god" I said, a laugh escaping my lips. I covered my mouth right after, stopping it, not wanting Harry to get offended. "I'm sorry for laughing."
He shrugged. "It's fine, I know it's ridiculous" he replied, a little smile on his lips. He picked the brush up again, seeming to think about something. "It's your turn to share an unflattering moment from your past, now. To make me feel better about it."
"Okay" I said even before I could think about it. I didn't like to talk about myself, I'd never really done that before, not even with Ella, but I knew I owe him at least something after everything he'd told me that afternoon. I took my brush and dipped it in paint again, going back to the drawing, knowing that I would've found it harder to open up while looking at him. "So... my dad is not my biological dad" I paused for a second, experimentally looking up at Harry for a second. "But he raised me as if he was" I continued, when I saw that he didn't seem to be making a big deal of my words. "One time, when I was fourteen, I got really mad at him for something stupid, that I don't even remember now, and I called him by his name" I said quietly. "I didn't have a specific reason to, I just knew that it would've hurt him. And it did." I tapped the end of the brush against the surface of the desk, thinking of that moment again. "Yeah, not my proudest moment" I finished, looking up again.
Despite how awful I felt for doing that in the first place, Harry didn't seem to mind at all. He wasn't shocked by my revelation - of course, but he also didn't seem to disregard it at all. It was a nice mix, not unexpected coming from someone like him. "We all do things we aren't exactly proud of" he commented quietly, and I gave him a little nod.
"That's true" I replied, going back to the painting. I cleaned my brush and picked a new colour, a dark reddish shade, starting to fill in the spots I'd left blank.
"I can't call Niall's parents mum and dad" he shared all of sudden. "I hope it doesn't hurt them."
I looked up, meeting his green eyes, a hint of worry and something I couldn't define in them. "I'm sure they understand" I replied, stopping the movements of my brush.
He bit his lower lip, taking in my words. "Yeah" he said as quietly, picking his brush up again.
We painted in silence for a while, not really minding the lack of words. It seemed almost natural, after the conversation we'd had.
I added in the last few spots, finishing my side quickly before giving a fast glance to Harry's side to see how he was doing. He was close to being finished as well, covering the last empty parts with a dark yellow shade. His side was more planned out, less wild, almost calculated, in a way, not enough to seem unnatural, but enough for an observer to spot the carefulness in which he'd painted. His colour were vibrant, a small contrast to my slightly duller shades, but they didn't look weird together. If my side seemed more like a silvery morning, his was a golden sunset, the intense shade of the sun reflecting on the surface of the entire landscape. My brush strokes were a bit wider, a little less meticulous than his, showing my lack of interest in painting, while his were slightly smaller and a bit more careful, showing that he clearly had a very specific reason to do it well. Somehow, the two parts still managed to go together. They were similar enough to make the painting look like a whole, but different enough to still show two different people had made them. They slowly merged in the middle, almost making it look as if the observer had put on a pair of glasses with gradually better lenses as they looked from left to right. Overall, it was a good painting.
All of sudden I felt a vibration in my pocket, and I took out my phone, discovering that I had just received a text. I unlocked the device and clicked on the notification without reading it, a sudden frown forming on my face when I read Ella's name at the top of the screen. It'd been over a month since the last time we'd texted each other, the date on the previous text proving it, and I couldn't understand why she'd text me all of sudden. My frown got deeper when I read the message she'd just sent. It was quick, and straight to the point. Enough to make me worry.
From Ella: we need to talk!
I stared at it for a few seconds, already starting to feel anxious about it. In my opinion, those texts were the worst texts. For the simple words she had chosen, I already knew that conversation would've been the end of me, despite not knowing what she could've possibly had to say that would've been bad news for me. I blinked a few times at the screen, my mind starting to race to try to find out what it could've been about. What if it was about Aiden?
Hey, I discovered Aiden is actually a stalker and planning a raid into your house to steal your underwear.
I shook my head at the thought that suddenly passed through my mind. That couldn't have been it certainly.
Or about her?
Aiden just planned a raid into my house and he stole my underwear. Couldn't you have just dated him instead?
I sent the table a shocked glance.
About me, maybe?
Why are people saying you stole Harry's underwear?
I widened my eyes. There was no way that was true.
What if it was about Harry, though?
I saw Harry steal Janette's underwear and sell them on the black market.
I was overreacting. I shook my head again, typing in a reply and sending it.
To Ella: When?
I didn't even manage to put my phone down before it buzzed in my hand again. I unlocked it again, surprised by how fast the reply had come, and read it quickly.
From Ella: now?
I looked at the time, it was a little past four. I sent a fast glance to Harry, that was still painting, his bottom lip between his teeth and his dark hair falling a bit over his eyes, completely unaware of the whole exchange.
To Ella: Give me an hour
This time I didn't even lock the screen, waiting for her next text to come.
From Ella: i'll be at yours at five
I locked my phone again, putting it on the desk, trying to refrain from nervously tapping against the surface to try to soothe my nervousness, not wanting Harry to think that I was annoyed by the situation.
I watched as Harry slowly finished his part as well, dropping my brush in the water with his when he was done. We both looked at the painting between us, taking it in for a few seconds.
"I'll move it so it can dry up" I said in the end, carefully taking the plastic sheet under it and putting it down on the floor in a corner of the room so that it would've been out of the way. I returned to my spot, looking at the side to try to escape the little awkwardness that had just surrounded us.
"Thank you" Harry said all of sudden, and I looked up fast at the sound of his voice.
I furrowed my eyebrows, not understanding why he was thanking me at all.
"For making me paint, and listening to me" he specified, taking in my confused state. "It was nice."
I straightened in my spot. "It's fine, and of course I listen to you" I replied. "I like to." I blushed all of sudden at the overshare.
He gave me a slight nod, thankfully not remarking my willingness to reply. "Thank you." He took his phone, pressing the home button to lighten up the screen. "I should go" he said quietly. "I'm busy later today." He brushed his fingers on the wooden surface.
"Sure" I replied, letting my gaze fall to his hands. "I'll go downstairs with you." I rounded the desk, reaching him and walking out of the room and down the stairs right behind him.
We stopped in front of the door, and Harry took his black coat, putting it on swiftly before opening the door and stepping out of the house. I followed him, but stopped in the doorway, the cold of December hitting me hard since I wasn't wearing a coat. I pulled the sleeves of my black hoodie over my hands, trying my best to keep warm.
Unexpectedly, he turned around. "How inappropriate do you think we could be before your neighbours call your mother?" He asked, the way the corners of his lips were slightly raised up hinting at what he was talking about right away.
"Please don't" I said, knowing that if my mum had come to know about me kissing some boy in front of my house from the old lady next door she would've had a stroke.
"Okay" he replied, still closing the distance between us to give me a fast peck on my lips, pulling away before I could even realise what had happened. "This will have to do" he whispered, before turning around and walking away.
I stayed in the doorway until his black car drove away, and then I walked back inside, closing the door and leaning against it, still struck by his action.
When I got myself together I walked upstairs, going to take a look at the painting to make sure it was drying nicely. Once I made sure it was, I exited the studio and locked it as I always did, leaving it inside for the night, to be taken to my art class the day after.
I went back in my bedroom, taking my maths book and sitting on the bed, flicking through the pages while I waited for Ella.
After a while, that turned out to be just twenty minutes, I heard the sound of the doorbell coming from downstairs, so I closed the book, walking down the stairs and to the front door.
I opened it, quietly greeting Ella, that was standing on the other side, and moving aside so that she could come in. She did and I gave her a side glance, her blonde curled up hair almost bouncing as she walked past me fast, as I closed the door.
I turned around, following her into the living room. "What did you want to talk to me about?" I asked her as we sat down on the couch, on opposite sides.
She took off her white coat, putting it to the side, revealing the white sweater she was wearing underneath. She crossed her legs, her icy blue eyes focused on me, and cleared her throat. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry" she said in the end. "I know I've been a pretty shitty friend lately, but it wasn't on purpose. I'm not trying to shift the responsibility, but a lot of things have been going on recently and I've been on edge all the time and I took it out on you, I'm sorry."
I widened my eyes at the unexpected words that left her mouth. I could've imagined her saying multiple things, but sorry just wasn't one of them. "Uh, thanks?" I still managed to let out, recovering fast from the surprise. "What's been going on?" I asked, curiously.
She let out a little sigh. "Just..." she looked down, straightening her sweater, that was a bit crumpled up in the front. "My parents are getting a divorce and I don't know, it's just kind of shitty" she said, a little laugh escaping her lips to minimise the value of her words.
"Oh" I said, not expecting that answer as well. I'd been at her house a couple of times, and her parents seemed to be really in love. But then again, I didn't know what was truly going on behind closed doors. "I'm sorry" I added fast, mentally damning myself for not being able to give her a full speech with all the right words. I didn't exactly trust her - I'd never really done it if I had to be honest, but that didn't mean I couldn't be sad about what was happening.
She looked down for a second, before looking up again. "It's fine" she replied. "I'm also sorry about that thing with Harry and Aiden. I... I'll be honest, I don't really know what happened there. It was just upsetting like, many people would kill to have the chance to be around Harry, and it was like you didn't even care at all. And I don't know about Aiden, like I find him really nice but he insists a bit much, doesn't he?"
I let out a laugh. "Definitely."
She chuckled. "For real. I saw the little exchange between him and Harry a couple of weeks ago. Well honestly, who hasn't! That was hella awkward."
"Yeah, that was a bit... something" I replied, suddenly being reminded of it. That was a lot, it really was. But at the same time, I was glad Harry had stepped in. I didn't know how I would've managed to get rid of Aiden if it wasn't for him.
"Yep" she said, her graze drifting to the floor as she seemed to think about something. Right when I was about to say something to end the awkward silence that had been created, she stood up, fixing her white glittery sweater again. "Well, I have to go, my mum is waiting for me at home!" She said, brushing her blonde ringlets off her shoulder, her voice regaining its usual cheerfulness. "I really just wanted to set this straight. I'd wanted to do it for some days, but I could never find the right moment so I just had to go with it, you know?" She said, taking a black hair clip out of the pocket of her white coat and brushing her long blonde hair back, securing it behind her head with the clip. It was a rhetorical question, and she didn't give me time to reply before continuing. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then?" She stopped her actions, staring at me.
"Yeah, sure" I replied, and she nodded.
"Great" she said, taking the white coat and putting it on quickly, closing the buttons. "I'll just go, then." She took her black bag, putting it over her shoulder. "It's been nice, and thank you so much." She walked out of the living room, making her way out of the front door just as fast as she'd arrived, leaving me to confusedly stare at the closed door.
I shook my head, happy with how the whole talking thing had turned out, standing up and going upstairs.
Delayed, I know! I hope you enjoyed reading this one though. x
Miki