a/n: i missed writing for painter harry tbh. this was such a good way to let out my feels. i love the harry i’ve created for this series. enjoy my loves.
please remember to reblog if you like!! feedback is highly encouraged! <33
masterlist
word count: 1.3k
warnings: fluff (: (: (:
--
Harry had never struggled for so long to find a muse.
Whether it’d be a new sunflower panting, a beautiful scenery, something made up in his head… it would just come to him.
But despite Professor Vitale giving the class two weeks to turn in a painting of whatever they wanted, Harry was stuck. He didn’t know what to do. He spent the first few days after class roaming around the city to find some inspiration, he looked through the pictures in his phone… but no luck.
Harry decided he’d take the rest of the day off and relax, invite (Y/N) over, and enjoy each other’s presence. He found that having her around always brought him peace and helped think better. Maybe she could even give him ideas so he could finally do something for his painting.
After a few texts back and forth and (Y/N) agreeing to go over, Harry scurried around the room to pick up any messes – though Harry was never one to leave messes but he’s just meticulous that way – he fixed the bed and brought out a few waters from the mini fridge in his room, and patiently waited for (Y/N). Harry found the more he hung out with her, the less nervous he’d be for the next time around, nonetheless she always spiked up his heart race and made his hands a little sweaty.
A few knocks in that familiar pattern were heard throughout Harry’s room which had him darting towards the door, stumbling over his own feet with a small curse leaving his lips before finally landing at the door.
“Hi – uh, come in. Come in.” Harry offered her a shy smile as he stepped aside to grant her entrance to his little safe bubble, not surprised to find that familiar and heartwarming smile on her face.
Even though (Y/N) had been over a couple of times, she was nervous herself though she did a much better job at hiding it then Harry did. She walked in, placing her small bag on the small table by the door before standing in front of Harry and cradling his reddened cheeks in her hand. “It’s just me, H. It’s me. You and me. Love how cute you get when you’re nervous, but you don’t have to be.”
Harry sighed as his shoulders sagged and a small pout formed on his lips. Over the past few weeks since their date and despite Harry always being a nervous wreck, he’s been more vulnerable around (Y/N) and has been saying what’s on his mind. It’s made their dynamic so beautiful, sweet, and soft.
“I know… I do... Jus’ what you do to me. Can’t help it.” Harry confessed before sheepishly leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead earning him a giggle from the sweet girl before him. “You’re perfect, Harry.” Per usual, he didn’t know how to take a compliment. His response what a small scoff and a soft shake of his head, then grabbing her wrist to lead her to his bed, both sitting in front of each other and crossing their legs. It was normal for them before they ended up laid back and tangled in a cuddle while talking about anything and everything.
“Did you finally find something to paint?” (Y/N) asked as she reached her hand to retrieve Harry’s from his lap, playing with his long fingers and somewhat massaging his palms – it felt so good, and it was so relaxing.
“No. Can’t seem to find any inspiration. Think y’can give me some ideas?”
--
Harry and (Y/N) spoke for about three hours and the conversation quickly towed away from his lack of inspiration. Harry started asking (Y/N) about her day, they learned more about their families and they very different lives back home. Anything besides what Harry needed to be focused on.
Somewhere along the conversation, Harry and (Y/N) had both scooted towards the top of the bed and fell back, laying on their sides and facing each other as Harry’s finger traced up and down her arm and waist slowly – and right then and there it hit Harry.
A small gasp fell from his lips, sitting up quickly and holding up a finger to (Y/N), “Don’t move, love.” (Y/N) laughed softly and nodded at him, her eyes following his quick movements across the room as she noticed what Harry was retrieving from the closet: a canvas, brushes, paints, and a clean palette.
“Harry?” She called out with a soft voice, watching move the small table by the door to be placed in front of the chair near the bed and scattered the materials over it.
Harry looked up at her with red cheeks and a nervous tone to his low octave voice seeping through, “You. It’s you. My muse. Just don’t move. Y’look so stunning.” Harry’s voice faltered somewhere along the way of his sentence as it spewed out in a whisper, fingers already wrapped around a brush.
(Y/N) had one hand tucked under the pillow, the other one rested over her hip. Her head so delicately placed on the pillow with her hair sprawled around her face. Harry’s eyes fixed on the commissure of her lips in a soft smile, her cheekbones prominent from the muscle placement of her cracked smile and Harry swore it felt like love was exploding his heart.
Harry looked back at the canvas with a soft sigh, brush stroking across the canvas in small tight movements for a more accurate painting of the aphrodisiac before him. He was almost in disbelief at how still and quiet (Y/N) was before looking back up at and finding her asleep. Harry chuckled softly to himself and continued his ministrations across his new artwork to turn in to the professor – what better than someone as beautiful and perfectly imperfect as (Y/N)?
It felt like it had been hours when Harry finished. He looked at the time and realized it took him four hours and it tore his heart that his poor (Y/N) had been here for so long without eating and probably longer than she planned to spend with him.
Harry set aside his wet canvas before approaching (Y/N) and softly tapping her shoulder, then moving some stray hairs away from her face. “(Y/N)? Love?” She opened her eyes softly, squinting and turning to look at Harry before widening her eyes and sitting up.
“Oh! God, I’m so sorry, H! I didn’t even realize I had fallen asleep. Probably ruined your painting, didn’t I?” Harry immediately shook his head and kneeled by the bed to be at face level with her, “No, I promise you didn’t. It’s perfect. I didn’t want to disturb you but you’re probably hungry and I don’t know if you planned to stay here this long.”
(Y/N) pouted softly before smiling and turning to wrap her arms around Harry’s neck, making him sit on the bed by her legs. “You’re too considerate and kind. But Harry, I’d spend all day and night with you if you’d let me.”
It goes without saying that Harry felt his heart racing a thousand miles a second. Their faces were close, and Harry wanted nothing more than to give in and finally kiss her. But it was almost as if (Y/N) had infiltrated his mind and thoroughly heard every word being said, leaning in and pressing their lips together. Harry let out a sigh of relief, staying still for a few seconds. That power of courage that he was dying to fill his veins finally hit him, his hands wrapping around her waist to pull her closer to him as their lips moved in something akin to synchrony.
Finally. He felt her lips after so much contemplation of back and forth.
Harry immediately felt intoxicated by the taste of her mouth, wanting nothing to break them away from such a blissful moment.
He pulled away, softly panting and chuckling nervously to himself. “Will you – do y’want to spend the night with me? If you want to… you don’t have to.”
(Y/N) broke out into a fit of giggles before running her hands down his shoulders, arms, stopping at his wrist. “Oh, shut it. Of course, I want to.”
a/n: at last, here.it.issssssssssss. i don’t know why these painter harry parts take me so much longer than they should but it feels soooo good when i finally finish them!
please remember to reblog if you like! feedback is highly encouraged! <33
masterlist
word count: 2k
warnings: sexual content, unprotected sex, also please pee after sex to avoid UTIs!
--
Harry soon realized there was a lot he had to thank Italy for – surely the wonderful art program that has allowed him to grow artistically and learn so many new things, but there was something else. Something so beautiful, so enticing and nearly perfect.
“H?” (Y/N) calls out to Harry, making him look up from his sketchbook and towards her as she was sat on his bed, sketching on her own sketchbook.
“Yes, my love?” It made her heart melt. Harry always called her the sweetest things that made her knees weak. He was so angelic; unlike anyone she’s ever been with before. (Y/N) never let her mind travel to those what ifs when they both have to go back home in a month. She didn’t want to imagine a world where she’d have to live without him anymore.
(Y/N) left her sketch book on the nightstand, getting up and slowly unzipping the sweater hugging her torso. “Harry, I want you to draw me like one of your French girls.”
Harry had seen women naked before. He’s had sex – the whole nine yards. But just imagining his (Y/N) in such a vulnerable and bare state, it made the blood in his body rush to his head, and not the one with the brain…
He froze with his eyes set on her face, gulping, and taking in a deep breath at the realization of what was happening. “Um… well, I’m not Jack but. Uh, yeah. Yeah.”
Harry sighed as he flipped over to a brand new, unetched page as a quick distraction from everything happening at the moment. (Y/N) was tantalizingly slow, letting the arms of the sweater slowly fall down her arms, the shirt following and leaving her clad in her bra and jeans.
“This is okay, right? I can get naked so you can draw me?”
(Y/N) initiated this for various reasons. The two had yet to engage in any sexual activity and every time they made out resulted in leaving two lust hungry people, too shy to start anything. She knew that if something were to happen, she would have to throw the line and wait for Harry to latch on. On the other hand, she wanted to see how Harry say her in his eyes at the wake of his talented hands.
There was no way Harry wouldn’t think seeing her naked was any sort of issue. He’s been wanting to admire and love her body for the longest, but his paranoia and nerves have always gotten in the way of it. He swore that nothing would ruin this moment. And whatever happens, happens.
“More than okay. Go on.” Harry crossed his legs to hide the tent forming on his sweatpants, sketchbook over his lap and pencil ready in hand. There were dirty thoughts running through his mind – how he’d trace his fingers over every curve on her body, how he’d use his mouth to make her shake and squirm like no one else has before, how his body will do everything to make sure she knows what real pleasure is.
And there it was. The most beautiful piece of art Harry had ever seen. There wasn’t one inch of her he didn’t want to kiss, to love, to touch.
(Y/N) sat on the bed, crossing her legs at her ankles and innocent eyes meeting Harry’s as if to question his stability. She wasn’t an idiot and Harry barely covered his situation downtown. “You alright there, baby?
Harry could carry on as if nothing’s happened drawing (Y/N) like one of his French girls. Or, he could say fuck it and fuck her.
Alas, Harry decided against his animalistic instincts to pound her. Harry ignored her question, penciling around the page and starting at the one place his eyes couldn’t look away from: her breasts. Harry couldn’t recall seeing anything prettier in his life. They were the perfect size – not too big, not too small.
The pencil was moving across the page with no meaning or mission, and that was all Harry’s fault. His mind was too busy elsewhere rather than focusing on his task. Harry huffed before putting the pencil and the sketchbook down on the small coffee table before getting up and looking down at (Y/N) with hungry eyes.
(Y/N) couldn’t help but let her eyes trail down his gaze, landing right at the bulge leveled to her face. Her hands moved without her permission, grabbing the hem of Harry’s sweats to pull him closer before shoving them down along with his briefs and being met with Harry’s hung cock. Harry was surprised to say the least. Every nerve in his body flushed out of him and there was nothing else in his mind but (Y/N)’s delicious body.
“Christ…” She puffed as her cheeks became a deeper shade of red, looking up at Harry and realizing he had a look in his eyes that she’d never seen before. It made her feel sexy, wanted, and so, so horny. There was nothing in her that she could contain anymore. (Y/N) was sure of one thing and one thing only – she needed Harry inside of her.
“Harry?” Her voice innocently boasted, her tongue pressing flat on the back of Harry’s cock making him wince and earning her a deep groan followed with his hands traveling to her hair.
There was so much Harry was feeling at the moment – lust, hunger, desire… He momentarily threw his head back as he fisted her hair in his hands, mustering up enough control to look back down at her doe eyes and speak up. “Yes, angel?”
(Y/N) brought her tongue to the tip of Harry’s prick, pulling back enough to leave a string of her saliva attached from the tip of his cock to her bottom lip. Harry had never seen anything so aphrodisiac in his life. No painting, no drawing, no picture constitutes to the pretty girl on the bed with such a paradoxical innocent look that screams “Ruin me!”.
“Fuck me.”
Harry bolted at her words and dropped to her level, his hands slipping from her scalp to her cheeks and connecting their lips in heated and messy kiss. His bones suddenly felt weak, and his heart was racing a million miles a minute.
Without breaking their kiss, Harry and (Y/N) scooted up towards the pillows. Harry felt like (Y/N) was taking every single ounce of fresh air from his lungs, too dazed to pull away immediately. “Harry, please.” (Y/N) mumbled against his lips, her hand running down Harry’s still clothed chest and met with his dick, trying to put it closer against her cunt and hint at him to finally put her out of her misery.
Harry pulled away from the kiss, panting softly as he stood on his knees to slip off his t-shirt. He bit onto his bottom lip after spatting down onto his cock, pumping himself to fully lubricate his shaft. Harry’s eyes trailed up to (Y/N)’s eyes for a quick second for some sort of additional confirmation making (Y/N) roll her eyes and giggle. “Harry, if you don’t fuck me right now..”
Harry couldn’t help but chuckle sheepishly and feel his cheeks burn hot, finally ending the torture between the two and thrusting in the whole entirety of his cock, a small gasp erupting from the back of his throat. (Y/N) moaned out his name, hands gripping at Harry’s biceps tightly as she cocked her hips in order to adjust to Harry’s girth. She’d never felt so stretched out before, feeling like Harry was fully filling her in ways that she thought were impossible.
His hands found their spot on the back of (Y/N)’s thighs, spreading her wide open and holding them right beside her each side of torso. Harry started thrusting in and out with a certain diligence, falling in love with the sultry sounds slipping from (Y/N)’s lips. “Fuck, (Y/N). Y’feel so good.” (Y/N) giggled in between a moan, her hands slipping down to Harry’s backside in efforts to push him in deeper. “Your cock is perfect.”
Harry felt driven by her comment, fucking into her hips faster and harder as if his life depended on it. (Y/N)’s nails clawed down his back, her mouth spitting pathetic noises with every slap of their skin. The four walls around them pushes back every vibration of every moan and groan, making Harry feel like he was on top of the world.
(Y/N) couldn’t say any different. She was anticipating for this moment for so long. Harry was an expert at kissing her, leaving her drenched in the apex of her thighs, having to go home and touch herself to the thought of the delicious man she called her own. Now she finally knew what it felt like to be filled by Harry – he crammed every ridge and crook of her insides, driving her to something akin to insanity.
As if Harry couldn’t get any better, he brought his thumb to his mouth, wetting his digit with saliva before bringing between their sweat clad bodies and meeting her clit. He rubbed in right small circles, eliciting loud moans from the woman under him.
His name filled the room, driving him closer to his release which he did everything in him to hold back, “M’so close, angel. Please.” He huffed, “Cum for me.”
It was like her body could follow any command coming out of Harry’s mouth. (Y/N) felt her stomach tighten, clenching around Harry’s cock and gasping out as her body climaxed. She moaned loudly, feeling even more stimulated by Harry’s prick and his hand but not wanting it to stop. “C’mon, baby. Fill me up. Please.”
(Y/N)’s voice was worn out and raspy at this point, pleading Harry to empty inside of her. Harry let his hands slip from her thighs making her lock them around his waist. His thrusts became sloppier and harsher, groaning as he felt his balls tighten and ribbons of his white cum spill inside of (Y/N). Harry refrained from falling over (Y/N) though she seemed to not care when she pulled his body atop hers, peppering soft kisses to his clammy skin.
“H?” She huffed out as he pulled out from her cunt, falling beside her making her turn to her side.
“Yeah?”
(Y/N) stayed quiet for a few moments, smiling at Harry, and bringing her hand up to wipe away the sweat from his forehead. She shook her head and sighed, scooting closer to the man beside her and resting her head on his chest. “Never mind. Just don’t wanna go yet.”
Harry pulled away and frowned. “Y’don’t have to. You can stay the night with me. I – I would like it if you did.” (Y/N) giggled at his immediate switch back to his typical nerve ridden self, packing his chest before looking up at him.
“I’ll stay the night but… just so we’re clear… I’m not going to get a drawing of my naked body?”
Harry chuckled and shook his head, resting one arm over her bare waist. “Unfortunately, my dick cannot stand seeing you naked without crying for it.”
Given that it was nearing the nighttime and they had just engaged in a very physical activity, a comfortable silence fell over them. It only made Harry think about what would happen once they both had to go home. They’d just gotten so used to being around each other, and unbeknownst to the other, they loved each other. They had something neither of them ever had before and the thought of leaving her made Harry feel some sort of sadness wash over him.
He knew it was something they had to address sooner rather than later but Harry did everything in him to avoid it and enjoy what they had at the moment without ruining it with his overthinking like he usually did with every other situation in his life.
a/n: another part of painter harry <33333 writing this warmed my heart and i hope it does the same for you guys!
please reblog if you enjoy this! it means A TON to us writers <333 muah, love you all!
masterlist
word count: 1.2k
warnings: none
--
“And here. Here we are. Il museo di Vincent Van Gogh.” Professor Vitale sports a wide smile on her face. Harry couldn’t recall ever seeing her so happy. She was probably one of those professors you believe is grumpy and alone, living with animals because they couldn’t care less to give a person a chance.
Harry looked around, his hands shoved in his pockets as his eyes wander the beautiful scenery before him – and no, not the museum.
Since they arrived at the parking lot of the school, Harry couldn’t keep his eyes off (Y/N). She looked stunning, wearing a beautiful mini floral baby doll dress and her hair falling down her shoulders in waves. Harry was intoxicated by her beauty. Worst of all, she would give him a small smile if she caught him looking. All it did was make Harry’s heart race and his cheeks heat up as he looked away.
Harry avoided her on the bus. He sat somewhere in the middle rows, alone and finding importance on a loose thread of his jeans so no one would talk to him.
Soon they arrived at the museum, and they kept walking in a tight group until they reached the inside and God, it was a relief. Harry could finally breathe. Being so close to her made him incredibly nervous, even if (Y/N) wasn’t looking his way or paying him any mind.
Nonetheless, Harry’s eyes were magnets to the radiating wavelengths of beauty that the woman had no idea could make anyone falter, enamor, and absolutely melt. So, he kept his distance, walking around the huge multisensory room that had its light’s out except the illuminating walls and ceiling show casing Van Gogh’s masterpiece, The Starry Night.
For a moment, Harry was distracted from (Y/N) consuming his thoughts. The room was beautiful. Seeing The Starry Night so up close and personal made Harry feel like he was in the painting. Like he could touch the stars, reach for that moon that stared at him with suggestive eyes to lay down and enjoy the view.
“Very beautiful, huh? Feels like I’m really in there.”
Harry gasped softly, looking to the side to see none other than (Y/N) standing beside him with a small smile on her face, head titled up as she looked at the stars.
“I’m.. uh… sorry, you startled me.” But that was exactly what I thought…
(Y/N) giggled and Harry felt his heart melt down to his toes just like when she heard her say his name and all he wanted was to hear it another thousand times in her melodical voice.
“I’m sorry to have scared you. Should’ve made my presence known…”
Harry took in a deep breath, praying and hoping she wouldn’t hear the loud and fast thumping of his heart. God, he felt stupid. Like a little boy back in grade school crushing for the pretty girl of the class. Is this how crushes are supposed to feel?
“It’s okay… Was just lost in my thoughts looking at this beauty. Those stars… they just look amazing. Don’t know why they call out to me the most from everything in the painting.” It’s easy for Harry to talk about art without letting his nerves get in the way. It’s his passion and nothing ever made that falter from its importance in Harry’s life. Though (Y/N) right next to him and talking to him nonetheless certainly made him feel his spine tingle and his cheeks burn.
(Y/N) stepped forward, the projection of the painting illuminating her some. The stars and part of the moon were reflected on her hair, part of her back and Harry smiled. (Y/N) blended into the painting – in Harry’s eyes. Like if she was the star Van Gogh knew could not miss in his work of art, being important factor that lights a night as if its purpose is to bring warmth and assurance that peace and tranquility is coming, that you can rest without a worry because this is the time for that when the starry night arrives and makes its promise.
Harry couldn’t bring himself to avert his gaze from (Y/N) when she turned around and looked at Harry this time, the smile on her face still prominent and sweet. “So smiley, aren’t you?” Harry chuckled nervously at her words, shrugging, and shifting his weight to his other foot with his hands once again in his pockets.
“Mm… La luna e le stelle invidiano la tua belleza. Verrebbero poter brillare la metà de ti, mia stella.” *The moon and the stars envy your beauty. For they wish they could shine half as bright as you do, my star.*
It was now (Y/N)’s turn to feel like she was in a trance of honey gold dipped words and something that felt like warm promises. She had no idea what Harry said but it made her knees weak and her stomach flip.
She laughed softly, biting her lip with a soft shake of her head. “Maybe last week mislead you but, uh, my Italian is very limited and while I’m sure you’ve said nothing bad – I hope – I’ve got no clue of what you just said.”
Harry chewed the inside of his cheek timidly, trying to find something else to look at but who was he kidding? She deserved all of his undivided attention. “Oh, it was nothing. Just, making a comment about the stars and their beauty.”
“I’ll trust your words, Harry.” (Y/N) giggled again, softly bumping her shoulder into Harry’s, earning herself a chuckle from him.
(Y/N) thought his nervousness was so cute. It made her heart skip a beat to think that she was a possibility to this feeling, though maybe he could be a nervous person in general, but the former argument was the idea she was going to stick with.
Harry finally brought his hand out of his pocket, though it was only to look at the time from the watch on his wrist. They still had about ten minutes in the multisensory room. Harry was racking his brain, trying to find something to say to fill the silence between them because it was choking him. (Y/N) beat him to it.
“Do you think that, maybe I could have your number? Y’know, in case we ever do partnered work or you just, need someone to talk to. Whatever is it.” (Y/N) bit her bottom lip nervously, quickly digging into her purse to find a pen and a small piece of paper to write on. She would have given him her phone as that would be ten times easier, but her forgetfulness last night took the better of her brain function and she forgot to charge her phone. She couldn’t find any useless paper, so she grabbed the museum ticket and sighed softly, looking back at Harry as she put her hand out with the ticket and a pen.
Harry looked at her dumbfounded. How could she want his number? He’s terrible nervous, barely speaks and man, if only he would’ve had the courage to ask her first. “Uh, yeah. Well – I don’t see why not. Here…” Harry reached out for the ticket using his left palm for a surface and right pen in hand.
(Y/N) grinned, taking the ticket back and quickly looking over it. He had slightly messy handwriting, a small ‘H’ right beside the digits. “See you next week… H.”
a/n: (another part for painter!harry) this took me waayyyyy much longer than it should have, but finaallllyyyyyyyyy here it is... many many many thank you’s to my literal queen @lollypopsx for always reading over my work and giving me great ideas. ILOVEYOU.
pls reblog if you like it! feedback is always encouraged!
masterlist
word count: 4.7k
warnings: none!
--
Harry has a special fascination for sunflowers. He loves to paint them, draw them, sketch them on the corners of papers if he’s too distracted to focus on what he had to be writing. He doesn’t remember the specific reason or day he grew this captivation for them, but it has yet to falter.
The blinds of his hotel room were wide open, as well as the balcony door. Harry sat outside in the fresh air, an 11x16 canvas sitting on the round table, scattered with acrylic paint. Tubes of yellows, blacks, white, and browns, a couple of brushes and a plastic cup of water. He started at the bottom left with a wilted sunflower; petals dark and droopy, some nearly falling off the disk florets. The middle of the canvas was perceived with a little more life. Some sunflowers missing petals, but more yellow than brown. The stems a darker green, roots still attached as if they’d been pulled out from the soil. And the top of the canvas, adorned in sunflowers filled with life, beautiful and bright as if their purpose were to bring smiles to faces and happiness to hearts – Harry’s mind instantly drew him to (Y/N), brush in hand, stroking white paint over the last few petals of the sunflower at the top right of the canvas.
His heart was racing at the thought of (Y/N). Harry was a bit sad that she hadn’t texted him since last week, but at the same time, he was somewhat glad because he had no idea how the hell he’d gather enough courage to text back. Harry couldn’t explain why (Y/N) made him so nervous. Her beauty was breathtaking, and though he had yet to see her art, he knew she had to be amazing at that too. Her confidence stuck out to him even if in contrast, he lacks it. He could sit down and write twenty-thousand reasons why she makes his heart race, even if they hadn’t known each other for so long.
Once Harry finished his painting, he sat and admired his creation with a small smile on his face, then carefully lifting it up to set it inside for it to dry. Harry’s phone let out a *ding* as he placed the canvas on the table by the front door, his eyes widening a bit at the thought that it could be (Y/N).
And of course, it was.
From (Y/N): ‘Hi, H! Hope you’ve had a good week so far. How are you? What have you been up to?’
Harry’s heart was racing. Her message requested a simple response. Harry had a fine week, he is good. But of course, Harry being Harry, things are never that simple. He grew nervous, rereading the message about a hundred times as if the wording were to change if he looked away for a couple of seconds. He huffed, throwing his phone onto his bed as he paced around the room, racking his brain for an answer.
“C’mon, you idiot. S’just a message.” Harry told himself, shaking his head as he reached for his phone, finally replying to her.
To (Y/N): ‘Hey, (Y/N)… My week was good, hope yours was too.’
To (Y/N): ‘I’ve been good, just working on a painting right now.. You?’
Harry immediately widened his eyes, cursing at himself for double texting. Does that make him seem too desperate? Will she know he had been waiting for her to text him so eagerly even if he was too nervous to even reply?
His mind was going a thousand miles a minute, picking at his cuticles while he thought of ways to apologize if she said something about his way of replying but no… she couldn’t even give him more time to think before she was replying less than a minute after his reply and of course, she mentioned nothing about him double texting her. What a relief.
From (Y/N): ‘Mm, I had a good week too. Thanks. (:’
From (Y/N): ‘Ooooh, mind showing me what you’re painting?’
Harry smiled at his phone like an idiot. She double texted back. Anyone else would find that so insignificant but to someone like Harry who stresses every minute detail of every little thing he does, it made him feel so much better. But regardless, her message got him all anxious again. He never really showed his sunflower pieces to anyone. They were for his eyes only, to safeguard and keep as his little fascination and hobby, away from the rest of the world.
To (Y/N): ‘Well, it’s nothing special. Just some sunflowers, y’know…’
And again, almost instantly, Harry sees those three bubbles show up in the chat and he rushed out of the app, letting out a small huff.
From (Y/N): ‘OMG! I love sunflowers, H… they hold a very special meaning to me. If you ever want to show someone, I’m always here, yeah? Besides, never really seen your art, ha. We never sit near enough to admire each other’s work.’
Somehow, someway, Harry kept on texting (Y/N) for a few more hours. He felt a little more relaxed given that they were only speaking through a screen, and he wouldn’t be stumbling over his words like an idiot in front of her.
The evening was approaching, and Harry realized it was nearly 6 PM meaning it’s been a few hours since the results of a painting contest had been released.
Back when he first arrived in Italy, Harry noticed a poster on a bulletin board near his art class displaying a painting contest with a reward that called out to Harry’s attention: a voucher for another summer abroad for an art program, only it would be in France, and it could be taken any summer within the next three years. A couple more rewards were listed, but really, all Harry wanted was that damn voucher. He remembers making a reminder on his phone for today’s date, but texting (Y/N) had his mind completely revoked from anything else.
Harry rushed to the website, putting in his credentials to log in, pressing buttons that lead him to the status of his entry. His eyes widened, a small gasp emitting from the back of his throat.
He won.
Harry won the voucher and whatever else they were giving.
“No way!!” Harry laughed excitedly to himself, his shaky hands trying to take a screenshot to send to his mum and sister, typing in a messy but excited message that made no sense but got the point across.
Once the excitement died down a little (which wasn’t really possible, but he tried his best to stay calm), Harry went back into the website to accept his rewards, this time thoroughly reading them to find out what else he had won. Harry won the voucher of course, a brand-new set of high-end brushes, and two tickets to the sunflower field museum here in Italy. Harry was surprised. That museum was always sold out, tickets never being able to be held if not bought at least two months in advance.
Harry felt like a little kid opening Christmas presents, nonetheless. The rest of the evening consisted of Harry feeling like he was bouncing on clouds with every step he took around his hotel room. He showered with music blasting, took thousands of pictures of his new canvas that was now dry, there wasn’t a thing that could ruin his bubble of happiness.
The following day started perfect for Harry. He woke up a few hours before his noon class, took himself on a stroll through the city to find himself a cute little café for breakfast (maybe to find some inspiration for his next piece too). After finding the perfect place, Harry pulled out his phone from his pocket – still chewing on a piece from his half-bitten muffin – somehow using both hands to take pictures of the beautiful scenery before him. Busy people roaming the sidewalks of Italy: some puffing on a cigarette, others busy looking down on their phones, a couple walking in pairs and small groups talking about God knows what with huge smiles on their faces.
Who wouldn’t be happy while in Italy? Harry surely was. He’s in an amazing art program that allowed him to travel on a scholarship, he has the most supportive mother that pushed and pushed for him to pursue his artistic abilities despite his fear of rejection and neglection, and well, a pretty girl that makes his heart race with just a look. Harry would never forget Italy.
Noon started to approach, and Harry knew he had to get up and go. He gathered his trash and dumped it, making sure he’d leave the small table he sat at as tidy as possible so the person who would come clean wouldn’t have much to do. That’s just how Harry is and even though someone got paid to come and clean after people, he couldn’t bare leaving a trashy mess behind.
Thankfully, Harry made sure to bring his book-bag with him to avoid having to go back to the hotel before class which gave him more time to spend outside in fresh air. Maybe the fact that he had a great night made him see everything in a brighter light - the sky more blue than usual, the leaves on the trees bright and lively, the wind hitting his skin so nice and chilly in the most perfect way.
--
“Good afternoon, studenti. Today, I will be giving you all back your still life canvas’ with your marks before you leave. So please, remind me if I forget.”
Harry did his best to listen attentively to Professor Vitale despite her monotone and low baritone voice, only paying attention when it came to the work he was to do for the class. Especially when he had a little bit of trouble concentrating when his mind was elsewhere, focused on (Y/N) and how pretty she looked that particular day.
Picking apart words and orders, Harry knew today’s focus was on shadows and depth. Thankfully, the professor allowed them all to choose what they could draw as long as they could perceive the features she asked for. And that was fine, Harry could do that.
Given that the room was now adorned with stools and easels in a different placement, they were in two rows, four columns, but facing each other.
Harry could see (Y/N) from where he was sat at the corner of the first row, and perfectly to his advantage, she was at the other opposite corner of the other row. (Y/N) looked up from her easel as if to find inspiration in the room, right until her eyes landed on Harry. She smiled and gave him a little wave in which he returned the smile but awkwardly waved a dry brush at her, furrowing his eyebrows quickly and looking down at his lap as his cheeks flushed red. The epitome of awkward. Harry swore anyone could find his name on the dictionary right by the word.
Nothing came to him. Harry looked around the room, even thought about the beautiful things he’d seen earlier in the morning, but nothing would help him perceive depth and shadows. That was until he looked over at (Y/N) again, the sun creeping in through the window lighting up only one side of her face and - right then and there - Harry knew exactly what he was going to paint.
For a second, he froze. What if she finds out he painted her, and she doesn’t like that? What if that’s inappropriate? How would she even find out? Professor Vitale only gave the canvas’ back to whoever painted them and never displayed them. Really, (Y/N) would only find out through him.
On the other side of the room, (Y/N) just so happened to painting Harry for her own grade. She was just as stuck as he was. She didn’t want to be basic and a paint a flower in a field with the sun shining on it to portray its shadow on the ground right behind it. So, Harry seemed like the best bet. He was at a perfect view from her stool, sitting on the darker side of the room. What could be better?
Both painting each other without a clue, stealing long glances from each other though trying to avoid looking straight into each other’s eyes like the bubonic plague. Anyone looking at them from an outside perspective would laugh at them, would poke fun for two grown individuals crushing on each other like grade school kids.
The length of the class always varied. It all depended on the benchmark that day, whatever Professor Vitale had in mind. After all, they were all there for that specific class so if the professor warranted for an eight-hour class, then that’s how long they all had to be there. It had been about four hours, Harry finishing up his last touches on the shadows he’s created on (Y/N)’s face, content with the masterpiece created before him, all at the wake of his hands dripping every bit of his talent. Has he ever created such a breathtaking piece? He doesn’t think so.
Harry cleared his throat, a little nervous to speak up while the room was dead silent. “Professoressa Vitale… mi scusi signora. I’m done.” Harry doesn’t know why speaking up in class always works him up, feeling embarrassed to interrupt people’s peace and serenity just to speak up and say he was done. Nonetheless, he let out a deep breath as the professor walked over. She stood behind Harry, admiring his work with a stern nod and that same stoic look on her face, always seeming unimpressed. Harry looked up at her from his seating position on the stool, noticing how the professor looked towards (Y/N) for a second before looking back at his canvas.
“Hm, you’ve done very well, Harry. Assolutamente fantastico. Puoi andare.” Harry let out a breath in relief, nodding with a shy smile as his eyes trained over his perfect canvas. With a quick grab of his bag, Harry rushed out of the class. He looked at the time on his phone, eyeing inside of the room through the small window the door offered, eyes focusing on (Y/N) as he decided he’d wait for her until she was done – no matter how’d long she’d take.
It didn’t take more than 30 minutes of Harry waiting outside sat by the door before (Y/N) was walking out with that killer smile on her face. Always so happy and it warmed Harry’s heart. “Harry? You waited for me?”
Harry got up with a sheepish chuckle, wiping his sweaty hands on his black jeans. He shrugged and took in a deep breath. “Uh, yeah. Hope that was okay…” (Y/N) giggled and nodded, her hands shoved in her back pocket as they both slowly walked to the parking lot. “Of course, H. Don’t mind at all. Did you find today’s benchmark hard? Took me a bit to finally find what I wanted to paint.” Harry was grateful she didn’t ask what he had painted, he’d properly pass out trying to lie.
“Mm, I like shadowing. Wasn’t awfully hard. But yeah, struggled too finding my inspiration, ‘till it jus’ came to me.” A comfortable silence fell over the two, but of course, Harry didn’t do well with that. In his mind, it felt like it just gave (Y/N) time to find things wrong in Harry and never talk to him again. She was far too good for him, or so he thought.
Harry scratched the back of his head nervously, finally feeling a little braver to speak up again. “So, um, y’know that sunflower museum they’ve got here? The one near that pretty tower in Tuscany?” Immediately, her face lit up with a small gasp. “Oh, yes! I’ve been dying to go there but they’re always sold out! The next dates available are for when the program is over, so I won’t be here.” Harry felt his heart pick up in pace, his hands even sweatier than usual as he chuckled at her little bout of excitement.
“Hm, well… I have two tickets. I was wondering if maybe you’d… y’know, maybe want t’come with me? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Jus’ have a spare ticket and I’ve no one else to go with so- “
(Y/N) stopped Harry’s rambling with her hands now on his shoulders, halting their steps as Harry’s eyes widened nervously. Did he talk too much? Is she annoyed by his nervous rambling? He was not ready for her rejection. Can the world just crack open and swallow him?
“Of course. I’d love to come with you, Harry. I’d go anywhere with you.” Harry felt his heart now stop in comparison to its usual fast pace around (Y/N), a shy smile finding residence on his pink lips in something close to relief. “Really?” He asked above a whisper, eyes hopeful and soft. “Yeah. Anywhere. I like being around you.” Harry felt his heart rush again, pumping blood throughout his body once more to bring back the color to his cheeks. (Y/N)’s hands dropped from his shoulders, down his arms and he felt her warm fingers wrap around his wrists for a few seconds before she completely dropped her hands back to her sides. His skin felt cold again and he’d do anything to feel her touch once more.
“Um, I’ll text you then… I’ll pick you up on Saturday if that’s okay.” (Y/N) smiled at his nervousness, giggling softly with a nod. “Perfectly fine by me. Can’t wait for our date, Harry. See you soon.” Just at that, she left Harry standing in the middle of the parking lot with his eyes wide and throat dry. A date… Harry sighed as his mind went miles a minute. He started thinking about what he’d wear, what time he’d pick her up, what cologne he’d have on that hopefully (Y/N) would like.
Harry didn’t want to go straight to the hotel. He still had curiosity in his bones to explore more of Italy. Without another plan in mind, he got on his Vespa and drove off to the opposite side of the hotel.
He ended up in a street decorated with a bunch of small shops, parking nearby to walk into every shop one-by-one. He was fascinated and directly drawn to the art store hugged by a jewelry store and a gelato parlor. The lights were only dimmed with bulbs accentuating what’s being sold, an older gentleman behind the counter with a newspaper in his hands, and soft piano music filling the store. Harry felt happy. He was like a kid in a candy shop, his eyes looking at everything, and if he really could he’d buy the whole damn store. He nearly did, leaving with a bag filled with new tubes of paint and a couple new brushes which he stuffed into his book-bag as he headed out. The night was getting closer and closer, but Harry didn’t want his little excursion to end just yet.
Looking into the jewelry shop, Harry thought about possibly getting his mum a little appreciation gift for being so supportive of all his choices. He went inside and after roaming the clear countertops encasing the most beautiful jewelry he’d ever seen, Harry decided on a simple silver bracelet. As he reached for his wallet in his back pocket, Harry’s eyes landed on a gorgeous silver necklace with a palette pendant that held the primary colors on a tiny little brush. His thoughts ran straight to (Y/N). How weird would it be if he got her that? Maybe she’d like it. But what if she finds the gesture sweet and thoughtful?
After a long internal debate, Harry decided to hell with it and bought it too. He decided he was tired of being too afraid to make the wrong choices and learn to live a little on the edge – but just a little.
--
Saturday couldn’t come any slower. Anyone would think Harry would want the days to fly by. But the closer Saturday got, the more nervous Harry grew. Knowing it was going to be a date made him feel pressure. Harry’s a detailed person. He remembers everything. He’s all about the small things that people appreciate, even if it’s just the thought that someone was thinking of you, so they bought that silly pen with a panda at the end of it because you like it. But God, he felt like he had to impress her, as if being himself wasn’t enough.
After (Y/N) had texted Harry her current location, Harry gave himself a quick pep talk in the mirror as he fixed his hair and spritzed on his favorite cologne.
“Y’got this. You look just fine.”
Harry huffed, shaking his head at the fact that he really just spoke to himself in order to soothe his nerves. Before heading out, he made sure he grabbed the navy-blue velvet box despite his shaky hands and messy thoughts.
The drive to (Y/N)’s location wasn’t long. It was near to their class and after realizing she was staying in a house, he wondered if she knew someone here in Italy or was staying with a host family. His thoughts were then interrupted once (Y/N) came out of the door. She was wearing a beautiful sundress which funny enough was covered in sunflowers. That signature smile on her face that Harry tells himself she pulls out only for him to make himself feel better.
“You look beautiful, (Y/N).” Harry parked the Vespa and used his foot to keep balance on the ground though that didn’t do too much because his nerves nearly threw him to the ground. (Y/N) murmured a soft thank you as she hiked her leg around from behind Harry and sat comfortably, her arms hugging at his waist and there it was. Harry felt all his nerves wash away and his heart steady in pace. Her presence and touch brought him comfort and though he was only slightly nervous, this was okay. This was good.
--
“Look, H! They fixed the bushes to look like an archway to the sunflowers!”
Harry was so happy to see how excited (Y/N) was to be there. She was holding Harry’s wrist and guiding him to everything she wanted to see, and Harry couldn’t help but follow behind her like a lost puppy. He was almost overwhelmed by all the beauty. In between his favorite flower and (Y/N), he could drown and perish happily.
Standing in the middle of the sunflower field was exhilarating. This was all Harry every painted so perfectly and in every way. He took so many pictures (even sneaking some of (Y/N) walking through the field), finding inspiration for his next canvas.
Harry looked around and was pleased to find that they were in a spot that wasn’t heavily filled with people that could overhear their conversation or peek at what they were doing. “Hey, I’m going to get something from my scooter really quick. Wait for me here, please?” (Y/N) looked up from where she was kneeling at the flowers, furrowing her eyebrows a bit to Harry. “Are you sure? I can come with.” Harry felt his nerves kick in again and quickly shook his head before he rethought all of it over and decided on not giving her the necklace. “Yeah, it’s okay. Uh… just wait here.”
Before she could say another word, Harry scurried off to his scooter. His mind ran different scenarios of how things could go wrong before thinking of the first one where this was all a good idea. Harry finally reached the scooter, opening the seat where things could be stored and grabbed the velvet box. Harry let out a deep breath as he walked back towards the field, promising to himself that even if she wasn’t happy with the necklace, she was happy to come to the sunflower field and that was enough for Harry.
He wasn’t surprised to find that she was in the exact spot where she was once he left, only now she was sitting on her legs and holding a sunflower in one hand with her phone in the other. Harry mirrored her position by sitting on the ground beside her, holding the box in both hands. “So… the other day I was at this store getting my mum a gift and I saw something y’might like… Couldn’t help myself to get it for you. I’m sorry if it’s not something you like but it’s just that it made me think of you and-“
It seemed like it was redundant at this point. Every time Harry went on rambling, (Y/N) would do something to stop him and assure everything was okay. She dropped her phone onto her lap and wrapped her fingers around his forearm, her thumb rubbing his skin in soft movements. “Harry, listen to me. You don’t ever have to be nervous around me, okay? You could never say anything wrong. You’re so sweet, you know that? And more importantly, you could’ve gotten me a napkin and the thought alone is more than enough for me to like it. I’d be so happy no matter what.”
Harry let out a nervous chuckle and nodded at her words, rolling his lips into his mouth as he built up the courage to show her the necklace. “Means a lot to me…” He looked down to his hands then back at (Y/N), handing her the velvet box as his eyes attentively watched her despite her affirmation that she’d be happy no matter what.
(Y/N) opened the box, instantly being greeted by the prettiest necklace she’d ever seen, a huge smile on her lips as her arms wrapped around Harry. “Harry, this is beautiful! How- I just. Wow, I don’t even know what to say. Thank you for being so thoughtful.” Harry was so glad she liked it. Nothing could’ve prepared him if this were a different case. He wanted everything to be just as beautiful as (Y/N) but that was impossible. Nothing could beat her beauty. “Would you put it on me?” Harry smiled and nodded, reaching to grab the necklace from the box and getting on his knees to be a little above her level and clasping the necklace around her neck.
For a second, Harry felt all the air sucked out him as soon as he sat back down, and his eyes landed right on (Y/N)’s. Her face was soft in expressions but seeming as if her mind was stuck on something and Harry was afraid of what it could mean. He swallowed hard as his eyes widened just a bit and his suspicions seemed to be true when (Y/N) leaned in. Harry stupidly yanked a sunflower from the ground and put it in between them, grabbing her hand and handing her the flower. “God, I’m so sorry.. I- I just don’t want to mess this up and now I’ve done something I’m sure isn’t allowed and I look like a fool.”
Harry was sure (Y/N) would be upset, maybe a bit embarrassed but instead, she broke into a fit of laughter as Harry stood up nervously shifting from one foot to another. She held onto her stomach as she tried to get up, holding onto Harry’s arm before she started to run. Harry was confused but he followed behind her until they stopped at his scooter, and both fought as their lungs did everything possible to suck in fresh air and settle down. “What? Why- why did we run? Are you upset?” (Y/N) shook her head as she giggled, holding a finger up as she tried to compose herself, softly huffing when she finally gathered that she was okay and could speak.
“Harry, I could never be upset. I understand how you feel, and I should’ve asked first. I ran because you yanked a sunflower from the ground and that can get you banned from coming ever again.” He smiled at her and looked down at her hand holding the sunflower as he chuckled, “Um… guess you’ve got souvenir then?” (Y/N) nodded and hummed happily, standing on her tippy toes to plant a sweet and chaste kiss onto Harry’s red cheek. “Take me home, sunflower.”
