Masterpiece [h.s]

twenty

Harry's phone starts to vibrate obnoxiously around four in the morning. No matter how hard he tries to ignore it, he just can't leave it alone. Whoever it is clearly wants to talk to him for whatever reason and he'll feel terrible if it's something really important and he just ignored it and went to bed.

The brightness from his screen nearly blinds him and he can't make out the caller ID, but he swipes the green button to answer anyway.

His hands rub at his eyes, "Hello?"

It's clear that he was sleeping well, anyone could tell by the low octave of his voice and the scratchy sound that seems deeply rooted in his throat, and Carter feels bad for calling him so much when there's nothing of any importance: she just can't sleep and she wants to talk.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why I couldn't just let you sleep. It's nothing important. I'm sorry, Harry."

The sound of her voice perks him up immediately and sleep isn't so important anymore. He hasn't heard from her in days, which shouldn't bother him because she's busy with filming and competing on a television show, but it does because everything feels right with the world when he talks to her.

Carter lightly bites her bottom lip, "Yes, I just couldn't sleep and I thought that...I don't know...maybe talking to you would help. It's stupid really. I really am sorry."

Harry sits up and props his back against the wall, a smile on his lips, "No, no it's not stupid. I really don't mind at all, Carter."

She doesn't know what to say, but thankfully Harry fills the space for her. "I sold a lot of my favorite pieces today."

Carter smiles, although, she feels bad that he's gotten rid of his favorite paintings. "Really? Why your favorites?"

"Because my favorites are the best ones. I took pictures of them so I can recreate them later if I want to. I'm really going to miss the one I painted the day you let me take you out for breakfast. You were wearing this gray sweater that fell over your right shoulder and...sorry. I'm rambling."

Carter smiles softly in the darkness, "No, it's alright. Can I ask you something?"

Harry laughs lightly and settles into a more comfortable position, "You just did, but, by all means, feel free to ask another one."

Carter's laugh resonates beautifully in his ear and he smiles as his breath catches in his throat for a split moment. "Right. Anyway, what I was going to ask you before you pointed out the obvious, why do you try so hard for me? I mean, um, why do you like me above everyone else that you can have?"

Harry bites back his smile, "Are you going to tell me to shut up?"

Carter grins and sits up, fixing her hair into a quick ponytail and reaching across the bed for her laptop. "Not this time. Will you call me on Skype before you answer? I'd like to see your stupid face."

Harry nearly falls out of bed by trying to reach his laptop without getting up. "Oh? If this face is so stupid, then why would you like to see it, hmm?"

"It's stupid precisely because I want to see it. That, and you're always wearing that stupid grin."

Harry's wearing the very grin that she mentions as he logs into his computer, "What? You don't like my grin?"

Carter's icon acquires the little green dot that notifies people that she's online and Harry calls her immediately, a grin still on his lips.

"I like your dimples."

She's smiling down at her hands as she hangs up the phone and gives her attention to the computer screen. "Hi."

Harry's smile grows impossibly before her eyes, "Hi."