Diluent (Harry Styles AU Fanfiction)

Chapter Two

I know it has been a while, but there was a lot going on. Finally things have slowed down and I have time to write. I'm not too happy with this chapter, but I couldnt leave it unupdated any longer. It hasnt been edited I apoligize. 

Song of the chapter is Got Dynamite by Demi Lovato

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In that moment, I wished I was that witty girl with clever comments and a bucketful of confidence to say them. But I’d never been that girl. 

Harry was standing completely still in front on me, arms held to the side in surprise. I was just as motionless, but more so out of embarrassment than anything. I suppose that to the class around us, that were watching intently to see how it would play out, I must have looked scared out of my mind. 

But I wasn't scared. At least, I was fairly positive I wasn’t. Sure he was at a towering height with intimidating tattoos and a wicked glare, but this was the same boy who cried in sixth grade when the class hamster died. There was no part of me that could bring myself to fear him. 

However, it was incredibly embarrassing for the entire senior art class to witness my clumsiness first hand. Normally I was better at sliding under the radar with it. 

Breaking me out of my trance, Harry grumbled, “Aren't you going to apologize?” 

The sound of his voice surprised me. It wasn't the bubbly tone I knew from him speaking up in a class, the one with a smile basically laced into it. No, it was a slow deep voice, spoken in a calculating manner. 

Rather than reminding him that I had already rambled off a bunch of sorry’s, I felt the eyes of everyone on me and floundered with my words a little. 

Just as I was about to let out another sorry, he rolled his eyes that he’d just wiped paint off of and shook more purple liquid out of his hair. 

“Whatever” He huffed, before turning on his heel and stalking out of the room. It left me a little flustered, just watching the place where he’d been. I couldn't help but wonder if he had a backpack or something he’d forgotten, but then again maybe that clashed with his bad ass image. Did guys like that just carry stuff around in their pockets? 

Finally speaking up from her desk, leaning back in her chair, Ms florence gave a chuckle, “Well that was eventful” 

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It was everywhere. I meant fucking everywhere. I got weird looks in the hall, and whispers irrupted whenever I entered a class. Had I dropped paint on the head of any other student it would be a minor thing, but of course it had to be on the one guy that was single handedly fuelling the rumour mill. 

“This is bullshit” I spoke aloud to myself. I was perched on the highest level of the football bleachers, trying to focus my attention on something better than my schools pathetic need to gossip. Normally I spent lunch in the art room, but a class of grade nines had been using it for something I didn't bother to ask about. 

The deadline for university art portfolios wasn't for another five months, but it felt like it was tomorrow, the finishing date practically breathing down my next. So every free moment I had was spent coming up with ideas or organizing my previous pieces into categories like “not good enough” “maybe” and “I guess its ok”. 

Nothing I’d done so far had really impressed me though. Sure, it would in the moment, but I would look back at it a week later and every flaw would be loud and clear. 

“So you’re the famous Tori” I nearly jumped when an unfamiliar guy made his presence known on the step down from me. He was tan and rather sharp looking, his cheekbones high and pronounced. The british accent caught my attention a little, because as far as I knew Harry was the only one with an accent. Then again, I spoke to virtually no one at the school. 

“If it’s about the paint thing, it was an accident” I rushed. My hands instinctively snapped shut my sketchbook and clutched it like it was my life support. 

He let out a loud laugh and shook his head in amusement, “I personally thought the colour suited Haz nicely” 

Obviously he was referring to Harry, although the nickname threw me off for a moment. 

My lips stayed buttoned up in a tight line, just watching the boy in front of me. Did he just come here to clarify that I was Tori? Hell, was he waiting for an autograph? 

“The name’s Zayn” he introduced himself, jutting out a hand in my direction. As I shook it I eyed him skeptically. 

“No offence, but are you here for a reason in particular or…?” 

“Just thought I’d introduce myself is all” Zayn shrugged. He got up right after that and began walking away, giving me one last smug wave, “Next time go for blue, it’s his favourite colour” 

For the second time today, I was left confused and waiting for the ground to swallow me up. 

Within the next forty minutes, I had managed to get a few ideas down, few of which I planned on going through with. My pencil was held in between my teeth as I scrutinized the pages with narrowed eyes. I yanked my hair up into a pony tail, although it was a pathetic excuse for one. Having shoulder length semi curly hair, it really just resulted in a puff ball resting on my head. 

How did people ever put together portfolios? Because at the moment it was looking to be the most stressful project I’d put upon myself. 

There were only another five minutes before lunch hour ended, so I made the decision to tuck away the cluttered book and head back inside. Mr. Karlson was teaching my next class, and from what I’d heard he wasn't keen on tardiness. 

A figure a little whiles away caught my eye, sitting back against a tree. I knew it was Harry, just by the purple smears all over him. Apparently He hadn't been able to get it all off. It was too far to know for sure, but he looked to be writing furiously in a book. Perhaps it was homework, but not too many teachers made it a habit to give out homework of the first day. The curious part of me wanted to saunter right up to him and apologize again, using that as a jumping off point to get the story I craved to know, but I quickly locked her away and pushed through the back school doors. 

The question I had to ask myself was how long could I keep her at bay?