Diluent (Harry Styles AU Fanfiction)

Chapter One

This hasn't been edited at all, so I'm sorry for that :/ And thank you to anyone who's giving this story a chance, I appreciate it :)

PS. If you are looking for a story where Harry is a bad ass that is a street fighter and glares at puppies and swears in every sentence than I am sorry to inform you that you've come to the wrong place. In this story he's a complicated character that you'll come to understand.

PPS. I feel like I'm supposed to mention I don't own Harry Styles? I wish I did, I really do, but I don't. I do however own the NOT TRUE version of him I'm creating though this fan fiction. As well as all the other character in this.

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Chapter One

            I was ready to strangle someone. My hands were twitching every time the obnoxious students of first period art class opened their mouths.

            The only words that came out of their mouths were ‘Harry’, ‘tattoos’, or ‘hot’. The halls were already filled with auditory pollution that I had to make my way through, but now I was sitting irritated in front of a normally comforting drawing table with my sketchbook opened to a blank page, still being suffocated by their gossip.

            I understood it. I really did. His sudden 180 in appearance was possibly the most interesting event that had taken place at this school after that kid in freshman year had set the contents of the bathroom garbage on fire.

            However, I didn’t need to hear about him every moment I was in school. I could only imagine how he felt about it. Not even twenty minutes had passed since he’d taken those first steps through the front doors of the school and there were at least thirty new rumors about him.

            “Alright class” Ms. Florence cleared her throat, trying to grasp the attention of her students, “I know we’re all antsy since it’s the first day of your last year in this school, but we should get started”

            Ms. Florence had been one of my favorite teachers in this school since grade nine. On my free periods she would let me use the spare art room and all the supplies in it. Which was amazing for me, because I needed art like I needed food. It’s what kept me grounded.

            “There’s really not much to cover today” She continued once the volume calmed down, “It’s just a simple sketchbook assignment to help me get a feel of where you are”

            She continued explaining, writing the assignment on white board up at the front a long with all its requirements. It was pretty basic, like she’d said. It had to be monochromatic and a mix of two medias.

            The class was given the go ahead, and everyone started laying out little sample sketches as they brainstormed. I lied. That’s what would have been ideal for everyone to do.

            Of course the second they no longer had to pay attention, they transferred it all back onto the new school badass.

            Realizing they weren’t going to find a new shiny toy to talk about any time soon, I yanked out my headphones and plugged them into my phone. I admit, my movements were a little rough and angered, but part of me wanted to give them a hint that I was pissed at the lot of them. It was unlikely any of them would notice little miss wallflower Tori Becker, but it didn’t hurt to try.

            I made rough lines on my paper with a 4B pencil, and when I was happy with the idea, I ran the side of my eraser over them to make them nearly invisible, but still a there as a guideline. The color I had decided to go with was blue, which if you were to go through my sketchbook you could see it was a constant element. I just happened to love the color.

            As a last minute idea, I jumped up to get a water color pallet. They were stored in the back cupboards, along with other various types of paint. Behind me I could see a hum of noise, but it was thankfully drowned out by Voxtrot playing in my ears.

            My teeth gnawed at my bottom lip as I eyed the blue paint I needed wearily. It was like the universe was just trying to piss me off today. The plastic container was situated up on the top shelf just out of my reach rather than its normal spot on the third shelf, but that wasn’t what was filling me with a twinge of paranoia. Surrounding it were big jars of acrylic paint and with me involved, that was just an accident waiting to happen.

            I couldn’t tell you just how long I stood there weighing my options, asking myself just how badly I needed that paint. The determined artist in me was pushing me to just try with my tippy toes to get it, but the rational side of me was replaying every clumsy thing I’d ever done. Let me tell you, there were a lot. Just last week I was trying to bring dinner to my mom when I tripped on thin air and landed with a face full of mashed potatoes and gravy.

            “Ah fuck it” I grumbled, stretching my body as much as I could until my fingers were just grazing the base of it.

            Just a little more, I thought, furrowing my eyes brows in frustration. It was times like this that I wished I had tall parents who would have given me the useful gene. But no, I got the solid number 5’5”. Not short, but not much help when reaching for the top shelf.

            Just when I thought I was about to get it, a much larger hand, attached to an intimidating arm reach over me, easily plucking it down. That would have been great and all, but it was clear they never learned a rule I live by.

            Never, under any circumstances, surprise a clutz. I jumped in surprise my hand jerking to the side and my back slamming into the culprit’s body. I almost felt bad for thinking of them as a culprit, seeing as they were probably just trying to help. They were more like an unsuspecting victim.

            “Shit!” I cursed, hurriedly pulling out my headphones, “I’m so sorry! It’s just that you scared me, and I’m not exactly coordinated with my limbs, and I-“

            My lips buttoned right up when I spun around, and everyone in the class had finally shut up. Of all times to create an awkward silence, they chose now.

            My hands instinctively flew up to cover my mouth as a smile crept on my lips. I really shouldn’t be laughing, but I had very little self control.

            He stood there with a shocked expression, or at least I think it was. I couldn’t really tell through the mass of purple acrylic paint that dripped down his face.

            Well, I think it was safe to say that my wall flower title was gone.

            Now I was the girl who knocked paint all over Harry Styles.

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Well there you have it, the first chapter into this story. Vote and comment........please. Next chapter should be a bit more interesting with some actual words coming out of good ol' harry's mouth. I however don't think I'll be updating until theres a few votes and comments, just so I know I'm not only doing this for my friend who demanded it.

I'm going to be including a song in every chapter, whether or not it's a band/singer mentioned in the chapter, a song that relates, or just a song I'm jamming to at the moment.