What They Can't See. || H.S

Chapter Two: Bold but blank

He walked in, with spunk. Even his outfit screamed  importance, his belt which was golden with an engraved pattern on it was mesmerizing I found myself not being able to stop looking. He points to me while looking at the lady from the desk downstairs, I believe her name was Pattie but I don't remember caring enough to remember. I knew it started with a 'P'. She nods to his voiceless question of who I was and he sighs pushing his hands into his pockets.  Silence resumed and I shift in my place uncomfortably till one of them decided to break the silence which being was Mrs. styles. Styles. I make another mental note to not call him anything other than that. 

"Alright, you may leave now Pattie, I have much to do." She nods and I pat my back for being correct on the name thing. She exits and we are left as two, standing a considerable feet from each other. He places down his coat on a chair and clears his throat, "I will say, I was expecting someone-" 

"White?" I finish for him. He stays silent and turns back to me finishing with "older." I am embarrassed as well as confused why thats what he was most concerned about but let it slip my mind while I can. My mouth forms an 'o' when responding "yea, I uh-" He interrupts me which I am thankful for seeing I have no response to our awkward moment. "Are you ready to work now?" he asks rolling up his sleeves. Something I noticed about this man was his voice, it was soothing and warm and not American. He placed his hat on top of his jacket that still stayed laid to the chair. The dirty chair I might add. This whole room was quite the mess, but I try to ignore it my best. 

"yes! what's your first job for me sir." I hold my hands interlocked in front of me while he hands me a eye roll and a mug. "Coffee. Second floor, ask for help if it becomes to much for you."  I hold my breath to keep my mouth from slipping and saying something I shouldn't, grabbing the mug I head over to the elevator. 

-

Ding. The door opens and I pull back the metal gate to see people at work. Numerous minds standing in front of canvases at work. Not one head turns from the cuttable focus they all had. Different colors are thrown against each one and I watch the immaculate process that I stumble into a table. Grabbing the edge to regain balance I look back to them and still not one breaks. I head to the pot and pour into the mug till it becomes an a challenge to keep It from spilling. I leave and make my way back up to Styles area. 

When I enter I see him, now changed into much inelegant apparel and starring out the window. His hand is out signaling me to place the mug there, he is not much of a talker. I do as he.. signals and then soon wait paitently behind me for further instruction of my job. Next to him stands a large white board, blank, unlike the ones of the people down on the floor I have just come from.  He studies the outside and I get closer to see what he is looking at which breaks his focus very quickly. He side eyes me, "Yes?" I stand back where I was and say, "Just waiting on my next.. task." 

He turns around and looks around, "cleaning." 

I close my eyes to keep him from seeing me role my eyes. Was I hired as a maid or to do an actual job here?  "I want my paints organized, trash gone, brushes cleaned. If you have any questions, I'm sure you can figure it out." He sits at the stool that is placed near the blank canvas. I go to the desk area and pull of my blazer, pulling up the sleeves to my silk white shirt my mother had made me, hoping to not ruin it with his messy items. I decided to start at the center table which was covered almost to the ceiling. I pull off the canvases that had been painted but destroyed with what seem like punch holes. I look back at Mr.Styles. Styles. Who sits there sipping his coffee. 

-

The clock on the wall says the time is now 12:30. I have done a good job of getting rid of trash and anything that didn't belong here. Including a pair of stockings which I decided not to question. Artists were able to get anything with the title they held. I bring all the collected brushes to the sink and leave them there for now, deciding to wash them tomorrow when I plan to wear more appropriate clothing. Papers of sketches have been placed into a pile on top of the now cleaned off table. I look over to Styles to check his process, he holds a brush in his hand but still blank. I sigh at my frustration, wanting to see him at work but not having a chance yet.  

By 2 the room has been finished to its best content and I am sweeping the rest of the dirt into a pile, searching for it I come up short and walk over to the man who has the end of the paint brush pressed into his forehead enough to change the color. "Uhm-" he turns and snaps with a "What." 

"I was just looking for the dust pan.." his intense state releases and he clears his throat. "Not sure, check the cabinet or somewhere I don't know." He turns back to his previous state. I turn on my heel and begin a search that soon found it under books. Sketch books. I open one, and mildly gasp at the nudity. Women. Different shapes and different colors. I trail my figure down them, so vivd as if I was there. 

"Aren't you suppose to be looking for a dust pan." I hear hovering over me as the book is snatched from my hand. "I was it was on top of th-" Again, cut off by the glorious man that felt too entitled to ever let me finish. "Yea, well after this you can go. you're done for the day." I nod and finish my work before grabbing my stuff. 

-

I open the door to my mother "Look who's home! My working woman ah!" the air leaves me as she continues to constrict and tighten past a normal affection. "alright dear you haven't even given her time to place down her stuff." my dad enters, smiling and hugs me next with a much more pleasant sensation. "Hi Dad." 

He releases and looks down to me, "So how was it?" 

I thought to myself, what was my day even like there? 

- 

I know I'm knew but thank u for reading and voting XXXx