Cherry Flavored Conversations | h.s.

Chapter Fourteen

Another long day at work. Another day to deal with ungrateful costumers. Would the cycle ever end? Most probably not.

I opened the door, prepared to jump on the couch and never get up again but was met with an excited-looking Harry. He was surrounded by four large canvases and containers of paint, so much paint.

"Um, what is this?" I asked, trying not to seem confused. Because this was normal, totally normal.

"Well, you see, today I had an amazing idea. It all started when I was watching Beat Bobby Flay on tv - which by the way is awesome - and it just randomly came to me that I was bored so I decided to go to the store-" He took a deep breath.

"Is there a point to this?" I asked eyebrow raised.

"I was getting to it," He said, giving me a pointed glare.

"Sorry, sorry," I said, raising my hands up in defense.

"Anyways, I went to the store and saw some paint supplies and dedicated to buy it so we could have a fun day of painting. Like a date! If you want to, that is." His smile was contagious.

"Sure, that seems fun. You could have just said that you know?" 

"But I didn't want to." He grinned. 

I rolled my eyes, smiling as I put down my bag. "Just gimme a second I need to change out of this and into something more worthy of being dirty."  

"That's a good idea, why didn't I think about that?"

"Because I'm smarter than you," I stated.

"That's true," He replied, thoughtfully and I laughed. 

I went into the bedroom in order to change from my work clothes (which was really just my normal clothes but whatever) and into one of Harry's t-shirts that I rummaged through the drawers for, and was also way too big for me, seeing as it reached just above my knees. I also paired it with a pair of sweatpants and fuzzy socks because I was fashionable like that and because it was freaking November.

I joined Harry back in the living room where he was sitting cross-legged on the floor with all the art supplied spread out in front of him. His eyebrows lifted up and his lips curved into an amused smile once he saw my attire.

"Not a word," I said, just as he opened his mouth, probably to comment on it.

"I wasn't going to."

"Sure, sure. Anyways let's fucking paint!"

"Well, as you so eloquently put it, yes, let's paint."

"Fucking paint," I pointed out.

"Same difference," He said, nonchalantly.

"No," I said, "So, what are we painting? Is it gonna be a competition or just anything?"

"Just anything. A fun little date," He said.