Scandal | H.S.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒𝟐

McKenna Prentiss | June 21, 2018

*mild sexual assault mentioned trigger warning*

"Have you ever been to an art gallery before?" Dylan asks as he parked his car in front of his parents' gallery.

One thing I had noticed about Dylan was that our dates always had to be in very public areas. This was our second date and the paps had already picked up on where we were, which made me so suspicious and confused.

"Not that I know of, no." I smiled softly at him, and he nods, pulling the keys out of the ignition and hopping out of the car. I was about to open my side, but he was quick to open it, taking my hand in his and placing a chaste kiss on the back of my hand. "You're affectionate today."

"When am I not?" He feigns being offended, and I chuckle. We enter the gallery and my eyes widened. I underestimated the fact that his parents both graduated with art degrees, every single piece of artwork was meticulously chosen in order to complement each other. This place was honestly beautiful.

"Wow." I whispered, and I could feel Dylan's smirk. His ego inflates whenever someone would mention anything remotely close to him or his parents.

"You like?" He asks, and I nod. Before I could even take a step further, Dylan's hand grabs mine and he intertwines it. Dylan's hands were a bit smaller compared to Harry's and his hands were more calloused and rough.

I wonder if Dylan has already scoped through this gallery since we were rushing at looking through the art pieces, which I hated.

Art was meant to be appreciated, and Dylan was rushing through each piece, I wanted to stand before each art work and admire it's beauty, but Dylan kept tugging on my hand when I was taking too long.

"Come on, baby." He says as I stood before a painting that instantly caught my eye. It was of a girl and a man, the man was towering over the woman's figure, his hand on top of hers. She doesn't look pleased to be held the way she was by the man. I looked at the small card next to the painting, and the name of the painting finally made me understand the painting itself, 'Persuasion.'

"Kenna? Something wrong?" Dylan asks as I stood my ground, not moving when he tugged on my arm. I shook my head, shooting him a smile, and we both continue to walk through the gallery.

We didn't even last an hour in the gallery due to Dylan rushing me at every artwork I wanted to stop and admire.

"What's the rush?" I ask, chuckling lightly as we both hop into his car, and he speeds off, ignoring my question. He was acting very suspicious today and I hate to think he had an inkling that Harry called me a few weeks ago.

No, I haven't told him that Harry called, I haven't told anyone. I knew it was a drunk call, I could hear it in his voice, and also the fact that he kept telling me to 'go home' and 'I miss you'.

Truth be told I couldn't silence my tears when he called. And truth is, I still love him.

Leaving tour, and leaving him was the best decision I had made for myself, at the time. But I never really shook the feeling that I was still in love with him. Sure, I had Dylan, and Dylan made me happy, but not the same way Harry had.

Whenever I was with Harry, I could be myself completely. I never had to hide my feelings, that was one of the things that drew me in to him. I was myself, and I didn't have to pretend.

"A penny for your thoughts?" Dylan's voice snaps me out of my thoughts, and it was only now that I had realized his hand on my thigh. I sent him a tightlipped smile, shaking my head.