The Art Student (Punk Harry Styles)

Chapter 14:

Harry's POV:

      We were still stood there in her room just awkwardly starring at her large bed in front of us. We've been here for awhile, this is just getting weird. Her soft, sweet voice broke the silence. "Um, do you want to start unpacking your things?" She questions. I smile at her lack of knowing what to say. She always seems to know what to say and do. She's always so confident and well... non-awkward like me. I smile at her and nod my head. "Ok." I reply in a whisper. Her bright smile makes an appearance as I grab her hand and lead her to her front room, where my things are. 

       I am still in awe that this girl that I have been in love with for so long, is actually giving me the time of day, I can't even comprehend why she would kiss me and allow me into her home. But hell, I'm thankful. So thankful. It's weird it's like when I'm with her I get this boost of confidence. I've never had confidence, never in my whole life. It's strange that she can make me feel that way.

         I grab my two large bags and she grabs my three little ones. I truly don't have a lot of things, only a few pieces of clothing and only a couple possessions. The bags are mostly filled with my art supplies and art pieces. We walk back to her- our room? I don't know. I'm very disappointed I can't hold her hand because both of our hands are full but, I stare at her small hand as she leads us and that seems to be enough. We put the bags onto her bed and begin unpacking them. I don't really know if this is a permanent thing or not, so I don't want to get too comfortable. I don't know where to put some of my things, and I don't know just how much space she wants me to take. I hesitantly place a jar on her night stand. "Is that o-ok? Can I p-put th-that there?" I ask awkwardly. Dammit. I'm back to stuttering, really? She smiled warmly at me and nods her head. 

         "Of course, Harry. I mean, it's your home too now. Put whatever, wherever." She speaks gently and I love it. I'm so used to yelling. My father, and my teachers are always yelling at me, it's so nice having someone speak to me as if I'm actually worth something. I smile genuinely at her and adjust the jar before continuing to unpack. The jar is my tattoo fund. It has a bit of money in it and it has a piece of paper that says 'Tattoo Money' taped to the front of it.

        "So, you can have this side of the closet and these drawers, oh and I'll make as much space as you need in the bathroom." She politely says. I nod my head and smile back at her, she's being so generous. I place my four black t-shirts in the closet and put my other pair of black skinny jeans in one of the drawers she gave me. I fold my boxer briefs and place them in another drawer with my socks. I put my black eyeliner, replacement facial piercing rings (did that make sense?) and tooth brush on the shelf she gave me in the bathroom. She gave me a whole closet in her hallway to put my art supplies, and pieces in. She is so lovely. She loved a few of my art pieces so she hung them up around the flat. Most of them were of her, but she is basically all I draw so what do you expect? Though, some were just of flowers or a swing set. I only have one photograph and she let me put it on our dresser. It's a picture of me and my mother a few months before she died. It was next to a picture of her and her cousin.

        "Hey Harry... if you don't mind me asking, how did you pay for your sleeves and neck tattoos? Those can be four thousand a piece." She questions. I could tell she was trying to delicately ask without offending me, and she didn't but it was sweet of her for worrying that she would. "Oh, well I had a lot of money when my mother passed, and uh that's what I spent it on." I faked a smile. "Well, how did you get the money?" She asked delicately. "Well, my father wasn't a drunk in the first few months after my mother passed, so he gave it to me." 

       She nods her head and her hair bobs with it. We were finally done unpacking my things. "So, are you hungry or anything, I can make you something? Or we can go somewhere to eat. It's been a long day, I'm sure you're hungry." She spoke sweetly and softly to me. No one has been this sweet to me in so long. Mrs. Holland was the first one to be nice to me in a long time, but never this nice. "It was a long day... But, I'm not really hungry, just tired." I weakly smiled at her. My face still hurt really badly from the damage it took last night. I had a feeling that an awkward situation will happen rather soon. She looked in shock, almost as if she wasn't ready for me to say that. "Oh, ok." She whispers.

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Thank you for reading if you did! I hope you liked this chapter and are liking the story. Vote and comment if you want! Thank you! :)

-Jena xoxo