a guide to modern philosophy ⁽ᴸˢ⁾

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴠɪɪ

ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ, ɪ ᴀᴍ ᴘᴜᴛᴛɪɴɴɢ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴄᴜʟᴘᴛɪɴɢ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʟᴏᴏᴋꜱ ʟɪᴋᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜱ ʜᴀʀʀʏ'ꜱ ᴊᴏʙ ʟɪᴋᴇ. ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ɪᴛ ʜᴇʟᴘꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀꜱᴛᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘɪᴄᴛᴜʀᴇ ɪᴛ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ ᴠɪᴠɪᴅʟʏ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍɪɴᴅ. :) ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ, ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴠᴏᴛᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴍᴏᴛɪᴠᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ꜰᴀꜱᴛᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴇʟɪᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ Qᴜɪᴄᴋᴇʀ! :)

The next day Harry stays in his flat, moulding the clay and preparing the clay models with all of the proportions that are needed - nose, eyes, ears, cheeks and chin, forehead and hair, neck and shoulders. When he started moulding the first model, he was still a little bit hungover, his head not fully allowing him to concentrate. But later, his hangover disappeared mainly because Harry cooked himself a good vegetable soup. His head felt peaceful after and made him work the clay much faster and better. He played his Spotify playlist and hummed to the songs that came on shuffle. To add to his enjoyable moment, he decided to light some scented candles all around the flat. He loves candles very much, they make every place cuddlier.

He is now onto the second clay model, now moulding a beautiful ancient woman face, with a soft facial expression. He is glad the hotel chose his preferred sketches. 

The sun is slowly and surely setting down already, the golden hour peeking through the flat's window and making the place warm, the soft song by The Rolling Stones only adding to its peacefulness. Until a loud knock interrupts the perfect moment Harry enjoyed, he sighs with the irritation evident on his face.

"What it is, Niall?" 

"It's not Niall," Harry hears the high pitched voice and a quiet giggle right after. It is definitely drunk Louis.

"Huh, what do you want?" Harry asks the second he opens the door. He sees smiling Louis, leaning onto a doorframe.

"Oh, greeting to you too, my friend!" he giggles again and stands onto his tippytoes to see inside the flat. He can smell the soup mixed with the sweet smell and he can hear a song playing quietly behind Harry's body. "You chilling? Why are your cheeks dirty?"

"No, I'm working," Harry corrects him.

"Let me inside, will you?"

Harry rolls his eyes but makes room to let the smaller lad inside anyway. Louis looks all around with wide eyes, he has never been in Harry's flat. He explores everything Harry owns. And Harry is sure Louis is at least tipsy, again. He really doesn't understand why Louis always needs to have some alcohol in his veins, it's ridiculous. 

"What are you doing here, anyway?" Harry asks when he closes the front doors, walking back to sit in front of his precious model.

"I came to say hi! The lads are down talking to Niall, we are heading to party in a few," Louis explains and sits on Harry's couch. He doesn't sit for long until he stands up again, his steps leading him to stand next to Harry. "What it is?"

"I told you I am sculpting," Harry sighs and starts to caress the clay's curves again. Louis really needs to be reminded of Harry's job over and over again, it's starting to get on his nerves greatly. Is it so hard to remember?

"You have the dirt on your face," Louis informs Harry again and the curly boy just shrugs, he doesn't care at all, it's part of his job.

The blue-eyed man takes a grey cloth from the table and starts to clean Harry's face delicately.