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by adverb

Dedicated to instrumentals

by adverb

J O U R N A L | 0.3

Harry and I were tacitly seated at his desk, somewhat ready to commence the assignment for the afternoon. Neither him or I had made the slightest effort to converse with each other and it was slightly nerve racking. I thought it would be exceptionally easy to hold a conversation with him, but it seems as if I can't even start one without doubt consuming my inner being.

"So," Harry drawled. "how are you feeling at the moment?

"To be honest, I'm a little nervous." I answered, shrugging. "What about you, Harry? How are you feeling?"

"Why nervous?"

I actually didn't have a reason on why I was so nervous. If Harry could be at ease around people that were foreign to him, then why couldn't I? If I didn't know any better, I'd think that Harry is the main cause of my uneasiness.

"I don't know?" I replied, becoming slightly flustered. "I just get a little nervous when I have to interact with someone I really don't know."

"Well, you shouldn't. Quite frankly, I should be the one that's nervous. I am a transfer student, right?"

"Are you nervous?" I asked with interest lacing my voice.

"No, not really. Although, I am a bit uncomfortable since I'm in a new country. I'll be fine I guess."

"Yeah, Colorado isn't so bad after a while. Maybe sometime I-I, um could show you around. I mean, if you—you want." I stammered in a uncouthly manner, mentally scolding myself for stumbling over my words in such a maladroit state.

"Okay, yeah. That'll be more than great, thank you." An alluring grin had adorned Harry's facial features, causing a dimple to indent deeply into his left cheek.

"No problem, Harry. I just want you feel somewhat comfortable." I then had caught a brief glimpse of a journal; Harry's journal. "That's a nice journal you got there. Do you take it everywhere with you?"

"Thank you and most of the time, yeah."

"I bet you write and keep a lot of stuff in there."

"Yeah, I guess you can say that." Harry stated as he caressed the back of his neck, several fits of faint, nervous chuckles erupting from him. "We should probably start on the assignment."

I hastily nodded in agreement, feeling slightly disappointed. I actually wanted to continue our conversation—if you even wanted to call it one. I craved to question him more about his background and where he came from. I grabbed a nearby paintbrush and replied with:

"Oh, of course. The assignment."

a/n: hi, guys.

i hope you liked my slow, unexpected update.

this is not the best chapter, i'm sorry.

700+ reads yay, tysm guys haha.

ok, stay swaggy. xx