Artwork [h.s]

seventeen

Harry entered my bedroom and draped his coat over the chair of my desk as I waited next to the entrance. He was about to sit down on my couch when I stopped him.

"Not there" I said, and he turned around.

I hesitated a bit before pointing at the bed. I'd changed the sheets and blanket a couple of hours before, to match the white of my couch.

He seemed to hesitate a bit before sitting down on it, a confused look on his face.

"I never redo drawings. The first one always looks better" I told him as I tentatively stepped forward. "You should take off your shoes."

He easily slipped them off, leaving them next to the bed as I neared him.

I stopped between his knees and put my hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him back. "Lie down" I said softly.

He moved to do as I said, and I took the white pillow, moving it on one side, a silent request for Harry to do the same. I'd never been gladder I had a small double sized bed.

Once he was rigidly lying down on one side I walked around the bed, taking what I needed to draw him before getting on the bed from the bottom to avoid having to hover over him, which seemed a really inappropriate thing to do.

I knelt next to him, fixing his hair to give it a messier vibe. "You should relax or something" I murmured, and he shot me a glance. "Doesn't exactly look natural" I added. I put one of his hands on the pillow and the other over his belly, trying to recreate the most natural vibe as possible. "Alright" I said once I was done, moving to sit with my back against the wall.

He turned to look at me as I started drawing. As usual I let my mind drift off, shooting him attentive glances often to try to recreate the picture in front of me in the best way I could. Despite having had the opportunity to draw him for a little over a month, it still felt weird that I had the possibility to look at him how much I wanted, without it being weird. Or else, without it being excessively weird. I wondered how it felt to be someone's model. Did it feel like baring yourself in front of somebody else, or was it way easier than that? I didn't think I would've liked to be someone's model, I didn't really like to be looked at that much. I wondered if Harry cared. I used to think nobody particularly likes being stared at, but then he'd come around, and acted as if it didn't faze him at all. Was it because he was just used to it? Because of his wondrous looks he often seemed to be looked at, he couldn't cross a room without turning heads. But he didn't seem particularly upset, or happy, about it. It looked like he didn't even notice it at all. But I knew it wasn't it. From some of the things he'd said while we spoke I could understand he was way more aware of his surroundings than he seemed to be.

I looked at him again just to discover that his eyes were closed, his dark eyelashes gently resting on his cheekbones. I slowly lowered the drawing on my knees before hesitantly poking him to elicit any reaction. He didn't move an inch, and I realised he'd fallen asleep. I glanced at my drawing before looking back at him. He seemed peaceful in his sleep. He'd finally relaxed, his chest rising and falling at an even pace. I resisted the urge to fix my sketch to look like the current picture, something telling me that Harry would've never forgiven me if I'd brought to school a drawing of him sleeping without him agreeing to it first.

I sat more comfortably, continuing my drawing. I felt calmer drawing him while he was sleeping. When he was awake I never knew what went on in his head, and that scared me. He often just stared at me or at the room, and I couldn't help but wonder if he thought positively of it, or me, or not. I felt judged and it paralysed me, in a way. But in that moment, with him sleeping, I was basically alone, free to draw him as I would've with a picture.