Masterpiece [h.s]

thirteen

Carter avoids Harry for as long as she can, but she's so hooked on sex that it isn't an easy task. That, and she's becoming increasingly aware of what he's doing and that he's doing it on purpose.

She's pissed and needy and she decides to pay him a surprise visit two days before she leaves. Yes, it breaks client confidentiality but she doesn't give a damn. He's been to her place plenty of times and she can go to his if she damn well wants to.

The pavement crunches beneath her feet and she hugs her jacket closer to her body, the wind's a little too much for her today. Harry doesn't live in the nicest area of the city, but it doesn't matter really because hers isn't much better.

However, she's incredibly concerned when the address that she has matches up to a very abandoned looking warehouse. There's no possible way that he lives in there...he can't...can he?

Carter sighs, shakes her head, shoves the small piece of paper in her pocket, and deliberately makes her way to the small gate on the side. Everything looks so dilapidated and creepy and she just can't believe that it's possible for someone to be living inside.

The metal gate creaks loudly as she pushes it open and she cringes at the sound. If anyone does happen to live inside, they certainly heard that. She's positive that someone could hear it all the way down the block.

Carter pauses for a good moment or two to see if anyone will come out. No one does and she makes the decision to make her way over to the door. Once she approaches the faded and battered door, she can faintly hear music, it's beat a dull thrum in her ears but loud on the interior of the building. That explains why no one came out when she opened the incredibly loud gate.

She's beyond curious now, her hand resting on the cold metal of the knob as she hesitates. What if this isn't really his address? What if she read it wrong or wrote it down incorrectly?

Fuck it. She's going in and it doesn't matter if she's wrong or not because she has a bone to pick with Harry and, if not Harry, then with whoever's inside the creepy ass warehouse.

Carter practically flings the door open. Harry's sitting on a stool, hunched over as he paints something very intricate on an already half-filled canvas. He hears the door hit the wall and he hits the off button for the stereo to stop the music before he turns to face her.

She's already seen too much though.

His eyes are wide, but hers are wider. All around the room she sees her face, from sketches to paintings, she's everywhere and they're all so beautifully executed. But, fuck, it's her.

"What the f-"

Harry's up and where she's standing in only a moment. "I can explain, I-"

"No. No, you can't explain because I came here to yell at you and, damn it, that's what I'm going to do! I know what you've been doing, okay. I know. Don't even try to tell me that you haven't because I know that you have, you stupid bastard! You can't trick people and have them reveal themselves to you like that! Do you not know the fucking meaning of self-expression? God damn it! And now this!? What the fuck is all of this? Are you fucking crazy!?"

He has so many ways to explain, but he doesn't want to use his words and he can't use his art. So, he kisses her like he did that day when she was yelling at him outside of her shop.

Carter shoves him away, only to pull him back and kiss him in the same manner. He's such an asshole and she's such an idiot, but she doesn't want to stop herself because she's refused to let herself do these things for so long and her want overpowers her will.