how to be a heartbreaker; hs EDITING

two.

there was no reply from her for two days. harry though about messaging her again, but he didn't want to seem to creepy. eventually, he stopped checking his phone every five minutes for a message from the ocean eyed girl.

      harry was on summer break from college. he loved his major, english literature and art, and he hoped after his final year in college to go and work in a publishing house , giving novels a chance to get read by millions of people, or also become an painter. on his break from school, harry was happy to just relax and read book, without being pressured to study them for his classes or casually do a sketch or two a day in his journal.

      art for him was like fuel for a car. without fuel, the car would only drive so far, then its engine would start to rattle and eventually the car would stop and would not be able to function until someone filled up the tank. now you can imagine how much harry liked to paint. its the same for reading. without books or drawing materials, harry would cease to exist

      he usually went to the library on most days of the week, picking up a book and sitting in the quietest corner where no one could disturb him. this is how we spent the first few weeks of his holidays.

      the third day after harry met dante in the library, the third day after he sent her a text, a miracle happened; he got a reply at eleven o'clock that night.

      "oh hi harry." the message said. plain and simple. harry thought she'd come back with some snarky reply or a "leave me alone, i think you're weird!" message. god, he didn't know what to send back. would a "hey" be wrong because he already said "hi" three days ago? or would he asked her how she is? what if that made her upset again? harry didn't want that to happen.

     he just went with a simple, "hi. you have a beautiful name, dante bellini."

      not so simple and kind of embarrassing, you say? well you, my friend, have hit the nail on the head with that statement. as soon as harry hit the send button, he regretted the message. dante was going to think he was some creepy pervert who stalked eighteen year olds in libraries. he should have just went for a "hey"— which was short, sweet and would get the job done. not that messaging dante was a job or anything, it wasn't.

      dante replied almost an hour later "oh right, thanks i guess. so tell me about yourself, harry styles" and that's exactly what harry was going to do. he decided to call her as it was easier to speak rather than type. harry had rather large fingers, so it took him a while to type with his pressing of the wrong buttons and whatnot.

      he thought she wouldn't pick up, but on the seven-hundredth ring, she did. "hello?" she said, sounding sleepy. "oh hey harry!" she spoke in a more perky voice.

      "you sounded sleepy, did i wake you up?"

      "yes, actually. i must've gone asleep after i sent you that text, its been a pretty busy day," she replied sounding muffled. "wait, can you hear me better now?"

      "yes i can, love," he laughed. "so, what did you do today that has exhausted you?"

      "um, well i do drama and we were rehearsing a play the last couple of days, and well, yeah it's just hard work."

      "what play are you doing?"

      "take a guess." he could sense her smiling into her phone, which meant it was an obviously famous play.

      "romeo and juliet?" i guessed and she giggled, "you've pinned the tail on the donkey, harold!"

      "so what part are you playing?" he queried, "and you know, my name is just harry though." he added.

      "oh sorry, just harry, i thought since, you know, harold's can be called harry and, well you know, your name is harry so i just assumed— you know what i never mind." she blurted.

      he laughed and then heard something growl on the other side of the line. "harry i have to go my dog, well she's eating my high heels and yeah." she started. "bailey, put my fucking shoe down! uh, ill text you tomorrow harry." and then the line went dead.

      harry got in the bed and smiled at the antics that just went on. he wanted to get to know dante more, maybe even be friends one day, hopefully.

      he didn't think dante was beautiful in a classical way, she didn't have barbie blonde hair or a size zero waist, she didn't have long legs or a thigh gap. but she didn't need any of those to be absolutely beautiful, nobody did.

      this girl had a river of hair flowing down to the bottom of her shoulder blades, the colour of burnt sienna. she had ultramarine eyes, which weren't all one colour they were twenty. he could imagine taking up a whole palette mixing colours to paint her eyes. her skin was almost snow white until you got to her face, it had an abundance of delicate freckles dotted around her nose, also she had some acne scars on her chin and forehead. but her imperfections were what made her beautiful.

      and, in time to come, harry would end up loving her body and her personality and her soul and ever other possible thing you could love about someone, including her imperfections.

      "god i would love to paint her," harry spoke out loud to no one in particular.

     

     
      a/n: im sorry this is so fucking bad and boring i need help improving it and like literally i have the whole story planned out and i was trying to be poetic and shit but its not working and everyone hates dante but like ok she's a good person and harry is sad and it breaks my heart—oh my god i need to shut up jesus christ. ughshfbwks
and yes guys, we are getting to know our dear harry a bit more!!!
anyways leave some feedback ty vote/comment/follow you know the drill girllll
also thank y'all so much for 100 reads, that's crazy holy shit! god i'm weird
also also big thank you to frddie for the AMAZING cover thank you darling xx

b xxx