Masterpiece {h.s}

32. My love & Baby

Even if we had planned to do something at the end of the day, Harry and I decided that we would take it slow today. We stayed on my bed cuddling and Harry had ended up falling asleep. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't find peace the way he did. Something kept me awake.

I wanted to draw so badly, but at the slightest movement, Harry would tighten his grip on me and mumble incomprehensible words. I still tried, knowing that inspiration didn't come whenever I wanted and that I should seize the opportunity. After a couple of tries, I finally wiggled out of Harry's grip. He sleepily protested and I couldn't help but to feel guilty. I hoped more than anything that I hadn't disturbed his peaceful sleep.

I tiptoed to the part of my room where all of my art supplies were. I stared at them for a moment, questioning which technique I should use. I felt inspired, but I didn't know what I actually wanted to do. I settled on practicing my watercolor technique until I figured out what I wanted to do. I pulled out the needed supplies and started practicing. I didn't think much about what I was doing, simply laying down some colors on the paper.

I mainly used cold colors like blue, green and purple and before I knew it the whole paper was covered in colors. It didn't represent anything, but it looked good.

I had always been a strong believer that when you're an artist, your art usually speaks for you and that's exactly what had happened. I didn't intend on creating that, I was simply freeing my mind and painting aimlessly and the result was surprising. As I looked at the piece of paper that rested on my floor, I didn't perceive any negative feelings. I had painted with these colors before and they had felt sad, but now with the small splashes it felt more alive. I felt as if it represented the peace I felt inside. I could still deceive sadness, but not as I did before.

Maybe it didn't have anything to do with what I felt right now, but I highly doubted that. It felt as if I could easily connect the painting to my state of mind.
Daisy was still on my mind, but the feelings weren't as overwhelming as before. I knew that my mom was getting better and so was I. Things were slowly starting to get better and I knew that the main reason behind this change of direction was snoring in my bed.

I looked up, catching a hint of a smile on Harry's face, as if he knew what I was thinking. I couldn't resist and I slowly made my way to him. I kneeled down next to my bed and slowly pressed a kiss on his forehead before running my hands lazily through his hair. He mumbled before adjusting his position. I smiled and let him sleep. I went to sit back down on the floor, but this time I pulled out my sketch pad and some pencils.

I had drawn Harry before, but only from memory. Never had he been in front of me, free for me to draw. Now I had an occasion to do it, so I did. I didn't want to sketch him the way I had before, I wanted to draw him in all of his beaty. I wanted to perfectly capture his mess of curls, the curve of his lips, just everything.

An hour went by and as I was putting the final touch, Harry stirred.

"Anna?" He asked his eyes closed. His voice stained with sleep. He patted the bed around him, searching for me.
I smiled before replying, "I'm right here". My face deep in my sketch book.
Harry's head turned in my direction and slowly opened his eyes. "Hmm, come here."
"Just a second." I told him as I erase a small stroke of pen. I closed my sketch book and delicately put it on the floor. I slowly got up, letting my legs adjusting before climbing into bed next to Harry.
"What were you doing?" he asked as his lips connected with my neck.
"Drawing."
He hummed in response. "Will you show me?"
"Someday," I vaguely replied.

I didn't know if I felt comfortable sharing my art with Harry yet. Sure he had seen a painting before, but that was exceptional. I didn't like to show my art in general and for once, Harry was no exception.