if i could fly.

one

✧*｡ 01; THE ART OF FALLING ｡*✧
ー harry and fleur.

harry edward styles did not believe in love at all, let alone love at first sight. He believed that love at first sight meant falling in love with someone's looks and not their personality. Harry could not imagine himself being so immersed in someone, essentially willing to give everything he could with every fibre of his being, to another person. Harry was a very personal soul. He kept his thoughts and feelings to himself. The thought of sharing those things with someone else seemed quite strange to him. Maybe Harry was afraid of commitment or of sharing his true feelings; but Harry could never see himself falling in love.

But the first time he saw her it was October 2nd on a Tuesday in an art museum. It was maybe 10:06pm and hardly anyone was in the place. Harry was just sitting on a bench with his leather journal open in his lap when he had looked across the room to see a tall and admirable figure engaged in the Van Gogh hall. The girl wore a grey turtle neck, dark wash high waisted jeans, a tan wool coat, and brown suede wedge boots with white frilly socks. Her hair was pulled back in a low bun, neat and clean with a few loose strands falling over her eyes but she continuously tucked them behind her ears, and her retro glasses frames her face nicely. She looked put together and organized.

Harry had never really been mesmerized by a person before. He had never looked at someone and thought, 'oh that girl is the most beautiful female on the planet', or, 'wow that man is the most alluring thing i have ever laid eyes on!'. But this girl was a work of art all on her own. In all honesty Harry hadn't even caught himself staring for so long. It was like once his gaze had landed on her, it just stayed there. It wasn't even like he couldn't take his eyes off her, it was just that he didn't want to.

The girl would slowly advanced in her spot and stray closer and closer to him. Harry sat with his mouth open whilst he just stared at her. Finally, she crossed the hall and cascaded down the row of Picasso's and straight into the Monet exhibit, stopping only a mere few steps before Harry. His eyes trailed upwards as he realized how she was a bit taller than he expected; still shorter than him, but then again he was a lanky 6' foot something creature. She also smelt lustier than he had imagined. He pegged her as a rose and wild flower sort of scent.

But she smelt like a sweet mix of lavender and almonds. It was nice. Harry watched as she contently marveled at the large Monet piece before her. "No one appreciates Monet," she sighed under her breath shaking her head the smallest bit in disapprovement. "I do," Harry piped up from behind not even knowing the words were about to leave his mouth. He hadn't even thought over if he should speak to her, or in general, but somehow the words just came out. It was like he couldn't help himself. And this caused to turn the girl around so she was crookedly facing Harry.

Her features were much prettier up close Harry noticed, which was odd because usually everything is only prettier from far away. Everything was uglier from up close. But not her. And as the girl stared at Harry he didn't know what to do other that to blurt out again. "I love his work. I love it because all the tiny dots, the pieces, make up one huge masterpiece. it didn't matter if the dots were different. Some could've been mistakes. But you don't look at Monet and say, 'i wish this splatter of paint wasn't there', or, 'i wish that one stroke was larger'. You admire it for the mess it is, and I think that beautiful," Harry elaborated.

The girl's lips curled into a warm smile at his words as she nodded and turned to face the painting again. "He's brilliant," she said softly. Harry nodded as well even though she had her side faced to him. The two beings stood there in silence for a good while as they each just admired the work of art. "I never thought about it that way; the way all the small dots make up one big masterpiece. You admire it for the mess it is," the girl said repeating Harry's words. Harry hadn't either. The thought had always just come to him. The same way most things did. Harry hardly ever really thought about the things he thought, he just thought them.

More moments of silence passed and finally the girl turned around and said, "Shouldn't you be looking at the artwork," as she caught Harry's eyes still trained on her. "I thought I was," he breathed, once again the words leaving his lips without any knowledge. The words sounded like a lusty attempt at being romantic or love dovey or some sort of pick up line. But it wasn't. Harry was being truthful. He hadn't even know he had been thinking that. But none the less it caused the girl to blush madly and smile softly as she tried to refocus on the real artwork.

Harry didn't mean to make things awkward. He didn't mean to make it seem like he was trying to hit on the girl. He just said that because that's what his mind had been honest to goodness thinking. It surprised Harry even. I mean he thought lots of people were beautiful. But his mind had never latched onto one single person before. It had never caught sight of some tall sultry blonde and stayed on her. It had always just been a 'hm so and so is quite beautiful' and then the thought is over kind of deal. Only with this girl, somehow he seemed to still marvel about her without even knowing.

This was new for Harry. And when he had realized this, the girl regained her posture from her previous slumped figure and softly turned to Harry. "Thanks for your insight on Monet. What you said was quite beautiful," she smiled ever so softly before giving a small awkward wave goodbye and then straying off. Harry nodded farewell and watched her move along, and eventually out of sight. Harry wasn't sad or disappointed when she had left. But what amazed Harry was that out of all the thousands of faces he had seen in his lifetime, this stranger's was the only one he had wondered if he'd see again.

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(( so this gave no info at all but the whole idea of this story is that harry is this boy who has never experienced the feeling of real love before and finally he starts to slowly see what it's like with this girl who is so aesthetic and beautiful so it will be kind of slow at first because i really want to get across the feel of harry feeling things for the first time and not rush it. but in the meantime don't forget to vote and comment and read my other stories in the mitam inspired series !! ))