Vienna {h.s.}

chapter nine - brush bristles

"It's pouring, Vienna! Let me in!" Harry yelled from the door, making Vienna slide on her socks through the kitchen as quickly as she could to the front door. She opened the door, letting Harry barrel in, nearly soaked.

He peeked off his jacket, hanging it on the doorknob, then proceeded to take his shirt off of his torso. Vienna was blushing profusely, trying not to stare at the beauty of the tattoos on his bare skin. He placed his shoes next to the jacket, and his socks he held in the same hand as the shirt. He finally looked at her with a smirk, while she was staring intently at her socks.

"Hello, duchess." He finally greeted, receiving a mumbled 'ello' back, Vienna still gazing at her feet. "May I use your dryer?" He asked her, and she pointed him to the laundry room.

When he came back out, he was still shirtless, and Vienna was trying to ignore it as much as possible. He picked up on it, but thought it was for a different reason, and became hurt.

"Are you mad at me?" He asked quietly, making her head shoot up from the crackers she was eating to look at him in the eye.

"No! Why would you think that?" She exclaimed.

"Because you're avoid eye contact like it's the plague." He revealed.

"I didn't mean to." She told him, and he nodded.

He pinched at his lip, mulling over a question in his head. He wasn't sure how she'd react, but in the end he figured it was worth a shot. He was just wondering how to phrase it.

"Will you do body paint on me?" He blurted, and she glanced at him with wide eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to spring that in you." He apologized, rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous habit.

"It's okay. It's not like I haven't done it before. Just go lay face down on the bed, I'll be right there." Vienna instructed, washing her hands quickly.

When she had gathered all of her paints, she padded into her room where Harry was as she had told him. She spread her paint out next to him, and then sighed, wondering just how to paint him. He tilted his head back to look at her, and smiled.

"You can sit on me if it's easier." Harry told her, and she nodded.

"Thanks." She mumbled, straddling the waistband of his jeans.

Harry took in the feelings of the brush bristles as she began painting. Some of them were soft and smooth, and others felt rough and ragged. But Harry enjoyed the feeling all the same. After all, he had the girl he liked sitting on his back, painting his bare skin. He was pretty damn happy.

"Is it looking good?" Harry asked, and he heard Vienna hum in answer.

And from then on, Harry was silent, seeing as most times, the artist that was sitting on his back worked in quiet conditions. He heard the soft notes of music coming from Venice's room as she did her weekend homework, and the loud falling of rain on the outside of the house. But besides that, it was silent, along from the occasional sigh or hum or mutter from Vienna. And Harry just soaked it all in. It was a perfect day.

"Done." Vienna finally told him, and Harry nearly shivered at the wet paint on his back.

"Would you take a picture of it?" Harry requested, and he saw the flash of her Polaroid camera taking a picture around him before he felt the comfortable weight of the girl on top of him dissipate. He propped himself up, and sat up, looking at her, who was shaking out the Polaroid picture. "Thank you, love. I think this is going on my Instagram." He told her after she had handed the picture to him.

"Oh, cool. I have an account on it that I use on Venice's phone sometimes." Vienna told him, and he smiled.

"I'll tag you, yeah? Just tell me the username." She told him, and he took a picture of the Polaroid from his phone, and posted it.

Within moments, the picture had rapidly gained comments and likes, enough to make Vienna's mouth drop. She peeked at his phone, and he tilted it so that she could see the like count rising. She glanced at him, who held a smirk at her bewildered expression, and she shook her head in shock.

"I guess your band isn't as small as I thought it was." And Harry laughed at her comment.

"Glad to know you think that I'm such a failure, love." He teased. She ignored it, huffing heavily as she glanced back at the phone.

"You captioned it 'masterpiece by duchess'? Why? It's not even that good." She asked, and Harry scoffed.

"Not even that good." He muttered. "Duchess, your work has gotten you two million likes so far. Not that good, my ass." Harry scolded. She glanced at her fingertips, which were picking at themselves, and nodded shamefully.

"You're right. I should be thankful that people are even liking it." She instructed herself, then glanced at Harry with a playful grin. "So, you're like a celebrity." She taunted, and he rolled his eyes.

"Sure." He told her, an ounce of sarcasm pounding through his words. "Why do you go to the music shop so often?" He asked suddenly.

"Because I work there." Vienna replied nonchalantly.

"Oh. Did you work there when I first moved here?" Harry inquired.

"No."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry I'm not good company today." Vienna said after a couple moments of quietness.

"It's okay, duchess. We don't have to be talking all the time." He assured her, making Vienna nod in appreciation. "Vienna, you told me that you would answer where the cigarette burns came from once." She sighed at that, picking at her fingers.

"I had a boyfriend named Marcus." That was all was all she had to say before Harry gasped, and tugged her into a hug.

"Oh, love." He whispered. "I promise I won't let you get hurt." He told her.

"Matty says that too." Vienna laughed. "I have two protectors." She cheered pitifully.

Yeah, but only I want to be the one to love you.

^i'm sorry this chapter sucked ass. i'll edit later.^