Art | Harry Styles

22

Sophie dips her brush into the green paint, her tongue poking against the corner of her mouth in concentration as she drags the brush along the canvas, slowly. She's careful not to make a wrong move and destroy what she's been working on for so long. She has only a week to complete it now, but she's still taking her time, simply to ensure that it's perfect. It has to be perfect.

She scatters soft specks of brown and white into the dark green oval, dipping into a gold metallic paint to draw minuscule swirls within the green she'd laid down.

A light tapping of knuckles on wood sounds throughout the room, and Sophie reaches for the cloth she'd bunched up at the top at the canvas, tugging it back down to cover it.

"Yeah?" she calls, setting her brush down on the dock and her palette down carefully on the table.

She looks up as the door opens, Harry taking a step or two forward to lean comfortably against the doorframe.

"Hello," he says softly, bringing the sleeves of his sweater over his hands, "Alright?"

"M'good, you?" she replies, shuffling a few more items around before reaching for the apron she'd tied at the back to protect her clothes from paint, undoing the loose knot and slipping it over her head to hang it over the covered easel.

"Good," he tells her, pushing himself off the doorframe and taking a couple of strides towards her, "your mum said I could come straight up."

"Generous of her," Sophie grins, her fingers stained slightly with pastel shades of paint as she reaches up to rest them at the nape of Harry's neck.

"Hi," he says again, whispering now that they're a lot closer, a gentle smile mirroring hers on his lips.

"Hi," she whispers back, her fingers hooking lightly around the chain hanging from his neck, her chin tilting upwards to bring their lips together in a short union, still enough to send a burst of electricity through both his and her veins.

His palms subconsciously flatten against the small of her back, his thumb brushing over the hem of her shirt.

"I have news," he says quietly, a small smile playing on his lips as he shuffles towards Sophie's bed and sits down.

"Tell me." She pulls her hair from the ponytail she'd loosely tied earlier on, running a hand through it before sitting down on the bed an inch or two away from the curly-haired boy.

He pauses for a moment, eyes captivated for a second too long on the girl in front of him. The light streaming in from the sun through the window is reflecting against the high points of her face, her skin practically glowing, her brown eyes melting into their own sunset before they close, long and thick eyelashes brushing over her cheeks every few seconds.

"Sorry," he murmurs all of a sudden, rather sheepishly as his eyes shift to the centre of the room and then back to Sophie, her face breaking out into a smile having caught him in the act. "I was gonna tell you that next week, Mum and Gem are coming to visit."

"They are? That's amazing! That's when we're going to the gallery, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but they were going to come anyway, so they won't be here when we go on Friday. They're just here from Saturday until Monday or Tuesday, I think. I only found out about an hour ago and I wanted to come and tell you."

"Does that mean I get to meet them?" Sophie's eyes light up.

"Is that something you want to do?" he asks softly, carefully watching for a reaction. "I didn't know if that would be.. weird, or something. Or if you didn't want to. Or if you felt like you have to, because obviously you-"

"You're rambling," she interrupts him gently, her arm extending for her hand to rest lightly on his knee, "and overthinking. Of course I want to meet them."

Harry exhales, eyes shifting down to where her hand is on his leg, his fingers reaching to fumble with hers.

"Do you want me to meet them?" Sophie asks suddenly, her fingertips smoothing over the groove of Harry's rings.

"Yes," he says quietly, "I want them to meet you. I just didn't want to push anything."

"And you didn't," she assures him, a smile on her lips, "are you excited to see them again?" She's aware it's only been a few weeks since Harry had last seen his family - meaning it'd be a month when he saw them again - but she's also aware of how close he is to them, and how big of a step it was for him to move out to New York to begin with. She's aware he misses them a lot - although he often neglects to show it - and that he really did enjoy his time with them at Christmas, unaware of the slight slump he was in during the period.

"I really am, yeah," he grins, as he catches Sophie's eyes on one of his rings - on his ring finger, in the shape of a rose. He'd picked it up in an antique jewellers in London. "D'you like that one?" He asks her, and she nods.

"It's your best one."

"That's rude," he mockingly scolds, "my others will be offended."

"Maybe they didn't hear," she counters, with the raise of her eyebrow as Harry raises his in return.

"They most definitely did."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Something tells me that, since they're inanimate objects, they probably didn't-"

"They did."

Her eyes narrow slightly, as his eyebrows raise in a playful, challenging manner. He goes to open his mouth again, prepared to protest against her point once more, before she interrupts with her own laugh.

"Shut up," she warns him, playfulness in her tone as her hands move to the nape of his neck and she presses her lips to his, silencing any further opposition.

-
hello
this was short . and boring . but NECESSARY .

love u .xx