Promising Memoirs | soft h.s.

Chapter 65.

A/N:

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Songs for the chapter:

How Would You Feel (Paean) by Ed Sheeran
Everything I Do (I Do It For You) by Bryan Adams

Aubrey's POV.

I speedily typed away the words necessary for our paper, but unfortunately, I had other thoughts on my mind. My drawing class will bring the both of us into a downwards spiral, but I knew that neither of us could do anything about it. To say that I was shy in doing my forced action, would be an understatement. What made me even shyer was that I pictured him when I drew the strange man. It was the only thing that sort of helped me get through the misery of looking at someone else. It was something that definitely bothered me, more than him, if that was even physically possible.

Eric commented several times when we were drawing about how funny it was that I was still uncomfortable sketching the human body. Multiple times I wanted to tell him the reason why I felt like that, but I decided against it. He didn't need to know about my intimate life. I was bothered with Louis already knowing and I basically consider him my older brother. Especially in these past several months, I've grown to know Louis more, and there's a strong bong of trust between us. Eric was a friend and nothing more.

Harry had handwritten many things that he'd noted earlier, so he started typing them, but let me continue the rest since I was faster. I added my own mental notes and rephrased a few things so it flowed better. I was happy that he didn't mind or get offended in any way, but I always made sure he double checked everything before I continued. After all he was more precise in the English language, much more than I'll ever be.

After many long hours of being in the large room filled with hundreds of books, we called it a night; considering it was also Friday - and we were both tired. We just had to stay, because we both wanted to get as much as we could on this paper. I hated being stuck in the library in the later hours of the night. I preferred to be in an art studio, whereas with Harry, it was the opposite. We sacrificed our own likings for one another every once in a while; and if we couldn't come to an agreement, we'd just go home and work there. Of course, that also depended on what it was that we had to do.

Once we got home, we put our things in the office; and ever since my slip up with "nude boy's" first drawing encounter, I made sure it wouldn't happen again. Especially this time, she wanted us to add more details. I shuddered just from the memory of it.

We prepared a simple meal for us to eat and we devoured it quickly. The hunger we had, felt like we've been deprived of it for days. Harry had prepared our evening teas and added a few homemade baked goods he made when I was in class a few days ago. Apparently he was in a baking mood. It was rare when that happened, but I always enjoyed it. Unfortunately, Harry wasn't the best baker; however this time, he was extremely lucky. It was shocking, considering he worked at the Marylebone Bakery when he was younger. His creation outcome of the coconut macaroons and truffles he made, were simply delicious.

When I finished my shower and changed into some comfier clothing, we switched places, which was basically our daily routine. As I waited for him, I looked around and deeply sighed. I never realised that I was standing in the middle of the living room, as the remarkable memories that have happened between us in this space - there were so many.

The time when I first walked into the flat and saw it. When he first told me who he actually was. When we first kissed. When he was there for me when I was in such pain from my period. The hundreds of movies we spent on the couch watching romantic comedies. The moments when I held him when he cried after remembering his mum. The countless times we both distracted each other with anything we were doing - whether it was here or in the kitchen. Our first Christmas together, which had a bit of upsetting drama, but the beginning and end was perfect. When he read me one of my favourite books. Our daily special evenings we did, even if it were in silence, where we just gazed into each others' eyes, or raked his fingers through my hair, or found out something new about one another. Those were all my treasured memories.