Artwork [h.s]

fifteen

He entered my house, but didn't stop next to the door. He walked further down the hallway, going up the stairs.

I shut the door, sighing to myself before following him. When I walked inside my studio he was already there, standing close to the side of the studio.

I leant against the door, looking at the room, trying to decide how I should've drawn him. The opportunities seemed to become less and less every time, unless we... changed room.

I gave him a side-glance. He was looking at his phone, not paying attention to me. "What are you wearing?" I asked him, and he looked up.

He didn't reply, but he got rid of his coat, gracefully walking to the other side of the room to drape it over the chair. What looked like a thin long sleeved shirt was underneath.

"You wear white often" I commented. "Do you like it?" I couldn't refrain myself to ask.

He completely ignored me, but it was some kind of a step forward, considering that the last time I'd asked him something he'd got mad at me.

"Aren't you gonna say anything about what happened today?" I asked, and he glanced in my direction, not saying anything. "You know, the whole stepping in for me thing?" I specified.

"Nothing happened" he simply replied, and I closed my eyes for a second.

He made me want to shout. I wanted to yell and get mad at him for being so impossible, but I knew that would've worked against us both. I took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of my nose in distress. "Sure" I muttered. I walked to the dresser and took the camera, a pencil and a piece of paper, with a book to lean against. "I want to change room" I told him before exiting the studio.

I heard his steps follow me as I opened the door of my bedroom, glancing around fast to make sure everything was in order. I fixed the white pillows of the couch in my room, glad that I'd chosen that colour for once in my life. I motioned him to sit there and I sat on the opposite side of the room, on my bed. "Sit however you want."

He sat down and leant back against the cushions, his gaze on me. We studied each other for a couple of seconds.

"You haven't been nice to the blondie" he said in the end.

I let out a little laugh in disbelief. "Blondie?"

He bit his lower lip. "Jane... whatever her name is."

"You don't even know the name of whom you're fucking" I said lowly.

He didn't seem fazed by my words. "I'm not fucking her" he replied calmly.

"Sure, that's why she was sitting on your lap." I looked down at the paper sheet, starting to draw some basic lines.

"She has a knack for taking more than I'm willing to give" he said, not lowering his gaze.

"And what are you willing to give? A quick snog in the broom closet?" I replied sarcastically. I felt challenged by him, and I didn't like it.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" He said, the corners of his lips turning up imperceptibly.

I shook my head, not replying to him, concentrating on sketching him. I slid on the bed until my back was against the wall.

He went quiet as well, resorting to silently look around the bedroom. "Is drawing all you do?" He asked, staring at the painting above my head.

"Why are you asking?" I replied, looking up from the drawing.

He didn't say anything, looking somewhere else.