ᵗʰᵉ ᵃʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰᵘᵐᵃⁿ ᶠᵒʳᵐ

𝐔𝐍𝐄

harry hasn't been doing this for long. a little less than four months, he was far from being a pro.

but it's what he wanted to do. his job at the bakery was enough to get him by. he enjoyed the people he worked with. but, to be truthful, kneading dough didn't feed his ego quite like this.

he admitted he was a narcissist if he'd ever seen one.

he loved the look on people's faces. he loved watching the girls ( and sometimes the boys ) blush until there cheeks were a pink hue.

he loved being important. they studied him. they drew him.

as much as harry himself loved it, he knew not everyone would agree with him. some thought the human body was sacred. private; to only be seen in its purest form by a lover.

he'd learned the hard way, but he'd also learn that was okay, too. he enjoyed it. and that's what mattered.

of course he wasn't always this confident. harry was a quiet one in high school, never really talking to girls or boys about anything but school work. he hadn't really gone on a date until he started college. he studied music, and his first date was taking a girl to a beatles concert in 1969. he was nineteen.

his most recent date? a couple months ago, he went on a date with a guy. harry thought the night was going well, and he really enjoyed the boy's company. but, harry slipped up. he mentioned the nude modeling, and the boy quickly excused himself from the table. he didn't hear from him after that.

natalia could feel the red in her cheeks. the butterflies in her stomach made her almost feel sick. he was undressing.

first, his shirt. he pulled it over his head swiftly, and no one said a word. no one uttered any kind of noise. honestly, everyone was in just as much awe as she was.

tattoos covered his body. the ink was a nice contrast against his skin, highlighting all his best features.

"turn on some music, yeah?" harry nodded toward the instructor. even she was entranced.

soft instrumentals began playing as he reached for his belt. his fingers fiddled with his buckle, and he couldn't seem to get it undone.

"nervous?" a girl beside natalia spoke.

"hardly." he confidently retorted. he seemed like the type that was not fazed by much.

slowly, he pulled the belt from his pant loops. he folded it in half before snapping it. "best drawing gets a private lesson with me," he smirked.

"enough, styles." the teacher hushed, her tone unamused.

"kidding, of course." he winked.

just like that, natalia found herself blushing even harder. she couldn't figure out why, it's not like he was speaking directly at her.

for whatever reason, she was flustered. absolutely flustered.

she could see the girls ahead of her absentmindedly clutching their thighs, playing with their pencils. one girl curled her toes inside her sandals.

the pants slid down, revealing his black boxer briefs. natalia felt like she was going to burst into flames. his thighs were tanned, muscular. everything about him was art. made sense he was an art model.

fingers toying with the hem of his briefs, as they soon joined the clothes on the floor.