Artwork [h.s]

nine

Saturday came around faster than I had anticipated and before I knew it, I was back in my studio, with Harry right in front of me, his jacket on the chair in front of my desk.

I looked at him. He was sitting on the white chair in the middle of the room, his pale pink shirt stood out against the light colour.

I walked towards him, my heart rushing inside my chest. "May I?" I asked him, not waiting for a reply before untying the silky bow around his neck and undoing the first few buttons. The fabric of his shirt shone at the changing of light as I moved it. I pulled it gently, uncovering his collarbones and the tip of the tattoos he had on his chest. "Birds?" I asked as I recognised the delicate shape of wings, but my words were only met by silence. I tied the bow again, loose against his chest. I made my way towards the camera again, looking at him through the lenses.

He wasn't looking at me. His gaze was focused at the deep blue of the sky out of the window, the light green of his eyes reflecting the sweet shade.

"Look at the camera" I instructed him, and he did. Cold, and distant, as always. But somehow, it worked with what I was trying to deliver. "Just to be safe" I whispered as I took the picture.

The silver chain of his necklace reflected the flash that I had forgotten to remove. He shut his eyes at the bright light.

"Sorry" I said with a faint chuckle, feeling a rush of nervousness wash over me. I fixed it and took another picture before turning around and taking a paper sheet, a hardcover book and a pencil out of the last drawer of the dresser behind me. "Don't move too much" I told him as I sat on the stool next to the tripod, starting to trace some basic shapes on the white of the paper. I looked up, noticing that he was still looking at the camera, not moving an inch.

I let the scratching of the pencil be the only sound for a couple minutes, before the silence started to become awkward.

"When I draw someone I always start from the eyes" I shared, pretty sure that he didn't care about what I was saying that much anyway. "They're the easiest and most complicated part at the same time." I glanced up, he was looking at me. "It's easy to draw the shape and the eyelashes. But it's not easy to capture the look in them, or the exact shade they are. You have beautiful eyes." I put down the pencil and took a rubber, cancelling a line and carefully redrawing it again. "But they're of a weird colour. It's a dark green, but it's somewhat transparent in the light. Perhaps the best thing to do would be to cover an olive green with a grey."

A door was shut downstairs, the loud and unexpected sound making him flinch.

"Just my parents" I commented, putting the sheet aside and standing up to close the door of the studio. I sat down again and sharpened the pencil before starting to carefully draw the eyelashes. "Yeah, the eyes are definitely my favourite part. Eyes can hardly lie, did you know that? They always say something." I was about to say something else, but a deep voice interrupted me softly.

"What do mine say?"

I looked up at him. "I don't know."

He gave me a slight nod, looking at the camera again.

"You can look at whatever you want" I suggested, "Just don't move." I finished sketching the simple shape of his nose and drew the cupid's bow of his lips. "Thank you for wearing pink today. You look good." I glanced up, noticing that the light coming through the window was starting to fade away. "Are you required home anytime soon?"

"I'm not required at home" he said sharply.

I nodded. "Do you have any siblings?" I asked before I could stop myself. "Sorry, it's none of my business."

"It isn't. But I don't."

I nodded. "Alright." I gave him a fast glance, fixing the pencil sketch in my hands. "I know this is taking long, I'm sorry. I thought it would've been a good idea."

He said nothing.

"Okay, I think I can finish this on my own." I stood up and crossed the room, putting the sheet on the desk on the opposite side, turning it upside down, so that the sketch was hidden. "You can go." I turned around, he had stood up while I was talking.

He reached the desk, almost imperceptibly leaning down to take his dark jacket, the pink shiny fabric of his shirt sliding a bit down his chest in the process.

"They are birds" I commented as the dark ink under his collarbones was revealed.

He straightened up suddenly, buttoning up his shirt before putting his jacket on in a swift move.

"They're just birds" he said in a whisper, giving me a guarded look.

"I never said otherwise." I turned around and made my way to the closed door. "Are you coming?" I asked him when I noticed that he was still standing next to my desk.

"Niall saw your drawing" he said faintly.

I gave him a weird look. "I know."

He bit his lower lip, not saying anything as he walked past me and opened the door of the studio, getting out.

I stared confusedly after him for a couple seconds before following him down the stairs and in the hallway.

As soon as he passed in front of the door of the living room I heard the voices of my parents die down. I opened the front door for him and he rushed out, not saying a word.

"Goodbye to you too" I whispered to myself as I watched him cross the street and disappear behind the corner. I closed the door and leant against it with a sigh. Every day I spent around him was more and more exhausting.

"Sierra?"

I looked up as I heard my name being called from the living room. I covered the few steps that separated me from the door and glanced inside. "Hey mum. Hi dad."

"I didn't know you were home" my mum said. "Who was that?"

I shrugged. "Just my partner for a school project. I'm going upstairs."

"Dinner will be ready in a while."

I nodded before walking up the stairs. I went back inside the studio, closing the door behind myself. I took the sheet that I had left on the desk, turning it around and looking carefully at everything I had drawn. His eyes were the most defined part of the sketch, followed by the basic shape of his nose and lips. His hair was unruly as ever, contrasting the poised look in his eyes. The outline of the chair and his chest was down, the drawing of the bow a bit under the basic design of a wing coming from behind the shirt. Two birds. Harry Styles had two birds with wings spread out on his chest.

I nodded to myself, putting the sketch back in its place and taking the camera. Two new pictures were there. The last I had taken, his look was sharp through the lenses. I looked at the one I had mistakenly taken, his position was almost exactly the same one, but his eyes were shut, his lips slightly parted. Even when he was caught off guard he managed to look perfect.

I turned off the light and left the room.