Art | Harry Styles

24

"It's tonight; it's tonight!"

Harry's long legs take quick strides along the hallway, his skinny jeans tight enough to restrict his blood-flow just a bit. He slips his coat off and hangs it over the rack in a place which is quickly becoming his typical one.

A wide smile is on his face as he near-skips towards the kitchen, where Sophie's mother, Jackie, is sat at one end of the table, Skylar at the other with a slice of buttered toast in his hand. It's barely past eight, and Jackie's eyebrows raise in warm surprise as she catches the tall boy in the doorway.

"Hi, Harry - you're here early," she looks up from her cup of tea, a smile on her face, "excited?"

"Very," he grins, eyeing the pair of them giddily, "today's a good day."

"Not for me," Skylar grumbles, swallowing a mouthful of toast and letting out a sigh, "I'm being forced to go to school. Child labour, if you ask me."

"Good thing nobody did," Jackie raises her eyebrow, as Skylar huffs, rolling his eyes.

"Abuse, but okay."

"Anyway," Harry says, "Soph's asleep, m'guessing?"

"You'd be correct," Jackie stands up, setting her mug down by the sink, "heard her shuffling stuff around until about three or four this morning. Intense stuff."

"Isn't it just a shi-" Skylar begins, before catching his mother's eye and coughing quickly, "I mean, isn't it just a school project?"

"Oh, but Sky," Harry exclaims, rushing over to his side of the kitchen, "this is more than a school project! This is a grand reopening - an event of a lifetime!"

"Okay, that's kinda-"

"Incredible? I know!" Harry pats his shoulder twice, his grin widening even further as Jackie laughs softly from her place by the sink.

The gallery has been closed for only a week or two, simply for the sake of reopening and attracting newcomers. They do it often - a couple of times a year, perhaps - utilising the opportunity as a chance to introduce more new artists, and making more money is surely an added bonus.

And it just so happens - Michael has managed to snag the new places for new artists, for his art students to display their projects.

And Harry, as of this moment, is choosing excitement over nerves.

"Enjoy school, Sky. I'll see you both later," Harry practically radiates joy as he spins on his heel and takes off into the hallway, legging it up the stairs along the familiar route to Sophie's room.

He swings the door open a little too enthusiastically, causing the handle to bang against the door. He winces a quiet, "Shit", before his eyes land on the girl sound asleep in the bed shoved into the corner of the room.

Her curls are sprawled across the pillow, her face wiped free of makeup, and of expression. She looks content, with no crease between her un-furrowed brows, and her lips stuck out in their natural position, eyelashes brushing the tops of her cheeks.

Her position is enough to make Harry consider leaving her alone in peace, and slipping out of her bedroom unnoticed for her to catch up on sleep. Maybe he'd head back out; to the coffee shop, maybe. Pick her up a drink and leave her a note telling her to call him when she wakes up.

But, no. Today's just too good.

Harry throws himself down onto the mattress, using his hands to cushion his weight slightly above her, to avoid squashing her entirely. His face is level with her own as his body presses to hers, the impact stirring her from her sleep in an instant.