Secret Admirers //one direction//

Chapter 27

I walk up to the front door taking out my keys and unlocking it before entering my house, leaving my shoes next to the door.

"Dad?" I call but get no response from the other end of the house. I decide to phone him. He receives my call and informs me that he has gone downtown for some work and will be returning before dinner time.

As almost always, I walk straight upstairs going into my room, to get everything I need before Harry comes up. I rush around my bedroom with my hands full of stuff, discovering to my terror that the room was messier than it had ever been, an unfortunate residue for what had happened since the past two days.

I leave all the stuff I had in my hands on the desk, dropping my purse on the floor next to the window and rushing to my bed, putting the blanket over it nicely, before walking fast towards my couch, taking all the clothes that were taken out of my wardrobe, before I left this morning while I was in the rush, back into the wardrobe, fixing the pillows and taking my blanket and folding it nicely before putting it back in its place. I take a fast look around making sure everything else is fine, widening my eyes when my gaze falls on Harry, who is leaning against the other side of the door.

I blink a couple of times as I take in the mildly amused look on his face trying my best not to think of how long he has been there, in order not to die out of embarrassment. "So..." I start giving another glance around in hopes of finding something that could have broken the extremely- awkward for me- silence that has just been created.

"My room is messier" he says and I knew that was it. At that point a hole could have opened on the ground under my feet and swallowed me whole, and I would've thanked it for it's service.

"That's a lie, I've been in your room", I reply remembering the almost meticulous way everything had been in its rightful place. No object had been out of place, the only thing breaking the tidiness of his room having been the couple of pencils and pens strewn across his desk. I feel a small wave of gratitude hit me, nonetheless appreciating his attempt at trying to make me feel better.

He gives me a little shrug, entering the room and closing the door behind himself "Just trying to help."

"So..." I start again, eager to change the topic, "I guess we could sit on the bed...and I could just draw..." I say, unable to mask the hesitance in my voice.

He hummed, nearing me. "Sounds nice" he whispers, the sound hitting my ear right away because of our closeness and making me take a hesitant step back.

My breath hitch in my throat when my legs hits the side of my bed and I almost fall on it. I escape to the side quickly getting everything I need and putting it on the chair, bringing it closer to the bed and noticing that Harry has sat down in the meantime.

I take a deep breath, taking the drawing board and the paper sheet and bringing them with me as I sit on the bed as well, leaning my back against the wall and my knees up to put the board on my thighs. I stop breathing for a second when Harry scoots closer to me, his somewhat sweet sent hitting my nose. Usually I don't like it when people look at my paintings before I finish them but with Harry for some reason it comes easy, not too mind about it. He makes it easy in some weird way. I don't know how he manages to always look like he has an opinion about everything surrounding him and yet to see him so deeply non-judgmental, whenever he looked at my paintings.

I close my eyes for a second, trying my best to ignore his presence next to me, his scent, the warmth of his thigh grazing mine but it seems completely impossible. I make another attempt at drawing the part of the drawing I always mess up, letting out a distressed sigh when I don't manage to do it. I soak my paintbrush into the cup of water, giving the painting a hopeless glance. It is almost impossible to concentrate, with Harry next to me, it is as if everything I can think was about him.