Artifice

Twilight Fanfiction

Throughout the story I've been trying to show that Eva is actually a pretty funny girl like any one of us, I've been trying to make her relatable so since the waters (the plot wtf kind of metaphor) are calmer it will be more obvious now. (Just a btw)

"So tell me Evangeline, have you ever thought about pursuing anything other than art?" I cringed at Harry using my full name. Though it was my name I was never use to people saying it fully.

We were still at Central Park, it was noon now, we've spent the entire morning together and I have surprisingly haven't thought about running away or jumping into the large pond beside us.

"Hm, I guess so. There was a point in my life when I wanted to be an astronaut, but who hasn't really? I might've been still learning the times table but it was a solid choice." I explained. "What about you, Mr. business man? I know you didn't grow up wanting to work in marketing."

"Right," he tensed, he always grew uncomfortable whenever I asked him about himself and I had no idea why. "Well I like reading a lot."

"I saw those gigantic bookcases in your apartment the other night." He nodded his head. "Those were all yours?" I asked and he replied with a nod again.

"I'm impressed. You should see my moms collection it's probably triple what you have." My mom bought our house according to how many books she could fit in it. We had a guest room that had an overwhelming amount of books stored in it, in shelves or in boxes, it always freaked out people who stayed over.

"Right, she named you after a character in an anti slavery book by Harriet Beecher Stowe."

"Yup." I popped my lips. "Anyways back to the question."

"Well I said I liked reading an enormous amount."

"Actually I recall your exact words were you like it 'a lot' not an enormous amount." I taunted.

"I guess you just don't want me to answer the question."

"No, no, please do tell." I grabbed a hold of his arm and wiggled it.

He looked down at my arm intertwined with his then at me, with his mouth opened as if he was unsure of what to say.

"I also liked to write." He looked away. "There's so many amazing authors I look up to and admire, it would be incredible if I could have something published like they do."

"An author huh?" I felt like a fool for misjudging Harry so wrongly ever since we met. "What did you write?"

"Everything, from events and things happening around me to describing how a flower looked." His accent made everything he was saying sound poetic.

"I once tried writing Fanfiction." I blurted out in the moment, feeling as if it was right but it was so wrong. Harry stared at me with a face that was about to explode in laughter. "It was going to be about Edward, the vampire from Twilight." I admitted and he cackled loudly. "I stopped after the first chapter, it was how I found out I was not made to write. I bet your writing would be a million times better though." I let go of Harry's arm as he threw his head back in laughter.

We carried on walking around the park and talking about his writing. He told me he hasn't written in a while since he was so busy with work, that he use to go into the room we were in last night and work on poems or short stories, he even promised one day I'll get to read something of his.

"The writer and the artist." I mumbled to myself.

"Hm?" Harry hummed beside me.

"You're a writer, well not officially but still, and I'm an artist. The concept would make a good plot for a story don't you think? The writer is this intellect that knows nearly all the right words while the artist fills in the missing holes with color and they create this mosaic of expression through language and visuals." My head swirled with images of this as I talked.

We both at some point stopped walking. Harry stared down at me and I couldn't tell what he was thinking but his face looked a bit distressed.

"Harry?" I asked.

Before he could answer he lowered his face down to mine, his lips hovering over mine as if he was hesitant to go any further. I pushed myself up connecting our lips, feeling the familiar sensation that I got whenever he just touched me. It was a different sensation than anything I've ever experienced before him, it was as if my whole body was a firecracker and his was the flame that ignited me.

"What are you doing to me?" He pulled away, his eyes still remaining closed as he leaned he head on mine.

Soooooo corny but I'm just trying to reinforce how Eva thinks. Just want y'all to know from this point on I will not be going into detail on their kissing or future mature scenes (so if that's what your hoping will happen, it won'tttt) I do not feel comfortable writing it and I'm a teenage girl writing Fanfiction, I have no experience of it myself to write on, sorry homies.