Artwork [h.s]

twenty-two

I sighed, deciding to go back inside when the sun set. I stood up and gathered my things, the blanket on top of them, and stepped into the house, walking past the kitchen table to go in the hallway.

But as soon as I was out of the kitchen I stopped, taking a couple of steps back. There was something on the kitchen table, that I'd barely noticed with the corner of my eye.

I put everything on the floor and I approached the small piece of paper that had been left on it. I was sure it wasn't there before. I took it and I unfolded it, discovering that ten cyphers were written on it, shortly followed by Harry's name in a handwriting I barely recognised.

I furrowed my eyebrows as I realised what it was. Harry had given me his phone number. But why?

I resisted the urge to throw it away not to get tempted by it and folded it again, putting it carefully in my back pocket and lifting up all my things again, walking up the stairs as fast as possible. I left them all on the desk in my room and I sat on my bed, taking the paper out again and staring at it.

When had he even written it down? I hadn't seen him doing it. It must had been when he left. A pang of guilt hit my heart when I thought of how I'd treated him but I shrugged it off, telling myself that he probably hadn't minded at all. He would've needed to care to get hurt by the shortness of my behaviour, and I knew that he didn't.

I shook my head, standing up and folding the burgundy blanket before putting it on the white couch in my room. I took the camera, the paper and the pencils I'd put on my desk, ready to go into my studio. I was almost out of the door when I turned around, staring at the ripped piece of paper sheet that I'd left on my bed.

I sighed and took it, putting it on my desk not to lose it before leaving the room.

I completed the drawing as fast as possible, and in just a couple of hours I was done. I'd decided to go with charcoal again, not wanting to spend more time than it was necessary staring at Harry's face through the picture I'd taken.

I stayed silent during dinner, not feeling like sharing anything with my mum, and decided to go to sleep way earlier than before to suffocate the voice in my mind that for some reason was telling me I was fucking up everything there was between me and Harry. Which was absolutely nothing, for the matter.

•  •  •

The next day at school flew by. Ella had decided to ditch me to sit next to Aiden, which allowed me not to have any of them bothering me. I felt lonely, but I took the chance, discovering that I somehow felt better without having her to put me down every few minutes.

Harry, of course, didn't ditch Niall and his friends, both during class and the free period.

Before I knew it I was sitting back into my art class after having shown the teacher my drawing, which she'd thankfully liked.

"Alright, I somewhat enjoyed your projects this time" she said standing up and going to lean against her desk. "This time I want you to do something different. Draw your models however you please, but they have to be on a bed. Sitting, lying down, I don't care." She looked at me. "You've already done it Sierra, so it'll be harder for you to do something different from the one you've already done. For you there's an added challenge: I want it with colour."

I opened my mouth to say something, but I shut it right after, knowing that it wouldn't have been a good idea to complain. I wasn't upset with having to use colour, the only problem to me was that I would've had to spend way more time with him than I wanted to. But I knew she wouldn't have cared, and I didn't have a right to complain.