Artwork [h.s]

eight

I sat down at my desk, a binder in my hands, thinking about the disaster that had happened the day before with Harry. The best think to do was not to interact with him again for the time being, and I was beyond glad that our paths would've never crossed again since the drawing was officially finished.

The art teacher walked in, giving the class a scrutinising look. "Now, if Sierra has decided to bless us all with her artwork, I'd like to move on." She glanced at me, sitting down. "Sierra? Have you done it?"

I nodded, hating the attention I got as I stood up and opened the binder, taking out a sheet at the very end. I walked to the teacher's desk and I gave her the drawing. She took it and put it down, staring at it. I glanced at it as well from where I was standing next to her.

It was a relatively simple drawing, even though the model sitting on the stool had been drawn with a meticulous attention to the details. He was drawn in black and white, the only spot of colour being the splash of blue and violet watercolour behind him. I smiled as I remembered how tricky it had been to cover the drawing in order to achieve that look.

"Interesting" the teacher said. "You know what, the way he's looking at the source of light is probably my favourite thing in this drawing. It's really unfiltered, pure. You caught the perfect moment."

"Thank you" I whispered.

She pointed at the watercolour. "Interesting choice of colour." She was about to say something else, but was interrupted when she heard a knock on the door. "Come in."

The door opened, and twenty students came in, all crowding in front of the class. My heart dropped as I realised who they were, and I couldn't help looking up, searching for him.

Like the time before, he was standing a bit farther away from the others, as if he didn't want to mix with them, almost in front of the class.

The teacher went back to the drawing. "As I was saying, the choice of colour is interesting. Is there a specific reason why you only chose these ones?"

"No, not really" I replied frowning, "I mean... they're my favourite ones. But that's it."

She nodded. "I like this drawing, Sierra. Good job."

"Thank you so much" I whispered.

"I'm glad to see that you and your model are finally getting along."

I cleared my throat, not saying anything. If only she knew. We weren't even on speaking terms.

"Well, as I was saying" she said to the class, "I'd like to move on today. As you can see I brought the twenty models back. You're still required to draw them, using whatever style you please, but this time I want it to be way more personal, intimate, almost. This does not mean you should draw them naked. Just, make me feel something."

The students started mumbling to each other, confused.

"This is a good example of what I'm asking you to do" she explained, turning my drawing so that the whole class could see it. And not only the class.

I look at Harry in hopes of discovering what he was thinking about it, but to my surprise, he didn't even glance at the drawing, preferring to look at the opposite wall instead.

"Okay?" The teacher asked. "This time you're also switching models, and you can pick who you want."

At her words, almost all the girls in the class looked at Harry, seeming ready to sprint to his side at any moment.

The teacher looked at them with a little sarcastic smile. She had probably noticed their reaction as well. "However, Mr Styles is off limits. Sierra, from this drawing I can see there's a deep understanding between you and your model, which doesn't happen often. For this reason, you'll stay with him. I expect a drawing that's even better than this one." She looked at the class again. "You have five days. That's all, I suggest you make plans with your partner now."

I refrained my instinct to complain and I made my way towards my desk, putting the drawing back in the binder. I turned around, noticing that Harry had followed me.

"Listen" I whispered glancing around to make sure nobody was listening, and noticing a couple girls glaring at me from the other side of the class. "I truly am sorry for what happened two days ago. I was just... out of my comfort zone, and when that happens I usually say stupid things. I'm sorry." I sighed when he said nothing. "Do you think you could come to mine on Saturday afternoon?" I asked him, once again earning no reply from him. "Do you never talk?" I finally asked him, taking him off guard.

"I'm not interested in making conversation" was his sharp reply, coming unexpected.

"Can you come to mine on Saturday afternoon? At 4pm?" I repeated the question.

"Sure." I had never thought a simple word could sound so cold.

"I want this one to come out alright, so it might take a couple of hours, if that's alright" I said, more talking to myself than him, since he clearly had no intention to make it easy for me. "What's your favourite colour?" I asked him, thinking of using the same style of the drawing I had just finished, since the teacher had liked it.

He seemed taken aback by my question, to the point that he broke his silence again. "Pink" he said lowly.

I raised my eyebrows. It was a quite unexpected answer, coming from him. "Pink?" I asked, but he didn't repeat. I smiled as an idea started to form inside of my mind. "Do you think you could wear a pink shirt on Saturday? Something elegant, like a button up, maybe." My teacher had liked the first drawing, in which he was shirtless, and she wanted to see more. Maybe, just maybe, that time we should've gone for a more sophisticated vibe.

He didn't reply, and the bell rang soon after, allowing him to leave the room.

I collected my things, thinking of how I should've drawn him. Everything in my art studio at home was white, but maybe, to make his chiselled features stand out, white with a hint of pink was what I really needed.

I was that caught up thinking about it that I didn't notice someone was standing in front of the door of the classroom until I crashed against them, making the binder fall out of my arms and sending some of my drawings flying in the corridor.

"Oh gosh, sorry" someone said, kneeling down to help me collect my drawings.

"I wasn't looking where I was going, it's my fault" I replied, crouching down as well and glancing at them, just to see two familiar blue eyes staring right back at me.

"Hang on, I know you" Niall said, "Aren't you the girl that asked Harry if he was gay?"

I widened my eyes. "You... know about that?"

"Of course I do!" He exclaimed, "Me and Harry are pretty close, ya know? Just like brothers. Don't worry, you ain't the first one that questions his sexuality, and certainly won't be the last."

I nodded, not really knowing what to say.

"Woah, this shit is dope" he said looking at the drawing I had made of Harry, scattered on the floor with the others. "You drew him so well! Did he see it?"

I shook my head. "Not really."

"Well, he's missing out!" He gave it to me, so that I could put it in the binder. "By the way, did ya see Harry? Was waiting for him but he vanished."

"He left as soon as the bell rang. I don't know where he is, sorry" I replied.

"Ah I'll find him! See ya" he said before walking away, leaving me in the middle of the corridor to wonder what the hell had just happened.