h a r r y

In life we take a simple flower, or a pretty sunset and we admire the beauty that belongs to this but never look past the visually appealing. In art we take the rawness of life, the hurt, the emotions, the good and the bad, and we imitate that on a canvas in our own way. Life imitates art, and art imitates life. We are a whole world painted on a canvas, playing out as the artist of nature and life paints us with vibrant colours, or dull colours. I always seemed to see who was dull in colour, those who just simply didn't understand how wonderful this world could be if we looked past all the chaos. And I always seemed to see who was full of colour, vibrant and glimmering under the sky as they admired that simple cluster of pink clouds, or the way a book expressed the love of two fictional characters.

The first person I saw with vibrant colours was her, the blue eyed girl.

She dripped with colour, she screamed out a galaxy of adventure and she was the breath of fresh air my art died to taste. She was something other and her alone made me the artist I am today, she inspired something deep in me that made my art what it was and every time I look into those eyes I'm taken to another universe, shining stars and blue sunsets I could paint on a canvas.

And today, I would show the town the beauty behind the blue eyed girl.

It was the 20th of march, a new season of blooming flowers and vibrancy in the cold town. The 20th of march, also the day of my showpiece at the local art gallery.

As the sun dropped down and the moon smiled with the stars, I walked into that gallery with my head held high. I felt nerves bite into my flesh but I ignored the sensation burning in me, plastering that charming grin on my face as I was greeted by my teacher Mrs. Robinson.

"Harry, welcome." She waves. "You look lovely this evening." Her hand rests on my arm as she leads me from the entrance, her eyes were proud and her smile felt warm.

"Thank you." I reply. "Is everyone here?" I question.

"Think so," her head twists around the area, gazing upon the large, crowded gallery with watchful eyes. "You, and the other students in the showpiece are all here."

"Great." I smile. "So we'll be able to go into the showpiece room soon?"

Mrs. Robinson lets an extreme look of proudness wash over her features, her eyes glowing behind those rimmed glasses. "Yes, Harry." She reassures. "Your piece will be on display for all these people to see, very soon."

I couldn't help that stomach wrenching feeling as she said those words, I knew what was happening today but only now did it dawn on me that people were actually going to look at my art. I pull on my collar, plastering a smile on my face as my enthused teacher begins to greet others. I search around the area to find any familiar faces, gazing upon a few students from our school but no one I knew.

Soon enough the showpiece room is opened, the art gallery owner; a balding man with piercing blue eyes walks to the large doors to the exhibit and greets everyone after they become silent. "Welcome all to the national art exhibit showpiece, featuring some of our most talented young artists around the state." He spoke through the microphone, a crisp voice that made my bones shake with nerves. "I'm Michael Tomlinson, and it is with great pleasure to finally open this exhibit."

My mind somehow goes blank when those doors are open, people begin walking into the room with wide eyes and stunning smiles as they admired the range of art. I watched as everyone filed in, filling that large space with eagerness as they began gazing upon the artistic creations of the countries young artists. I felt my heart thud so loudly in my chest, my ears ringing and my mouth dry with these anxious thoughts.

Reality fades back in when I spot those blue eyes in front of me, she let a small smile form on her ruby lips as she stared into my soul. I swallow roughly, blinking a few times before zoning in on the blue eyed girl.

It had been three days since I last saw lola, the morning after the party at sam's she disappeared for a while, leaving only a small note crinkled in my coat pocket. The messy handwriting left my stomach in knots as it told me of her short trip to see her aunt, to clear her mind. The words somehow haunted my mind for those three days, they were in my dreams every night while I tossed and turned, dripping from a canvas as I painted out my soul every day, but now that seemed to fade away to nothing but a distant memory. She was here, she was real again

"Hi."

"Hi." She smiles. "You look lovely."

I look down at my attire, thanking her. My body goes still as her fingers come up to my hair, running her gentle hands through the now short strands of chestnut hair. "I like your hair." She comments, letting her touch ghost me before disappearing again. "Can see your ears now."

I chuckle. "Yeah."

We stand still for a moment, listening to our heartbeats thud with each other with an echo in the cold air. It wasn't until three figures snuck up behind me that my mind dissolved back into the world, their familiar greetings making me smile as I feel hands grip my shoulders.

"Styles, why aren't you in there picking up the chicks?" Richard laughs, letting go of me as he steps back.

I scratch the back in my head, eyeballing Lola who was giggling into her hand. "Hi guys."

"And hello to you, styles," Ethan greets. "-And Lola." All eyes turn to the girl in wonder, realising just whom was standing here with me after a few short moments. She politely acknowledges the three boys, letting an ever-so-slight smirk form on her lips as her eyes ghost me.

"We should get in there." I state.

Sean nods. "Yeah, I'm starving and that buffet is just calling my name." The brunette boy leads first as we all enter the exhibit.

While I walk in Lola lets her fingertips dance with mine, the touch was so innocent and small but made my lips curve into a wondrous smile. I admire her beauty as she stares up at me, somehow tonight she was just so much more than her usual self, that universe full of wonder was somehow shining brighter than ever and I could see a glow under her normally dimmed soul. Her eyes sparkled as I spiralled into them, that electric blue consuming my soul and mind.

***

"This is your painting?" A voice questions. I tug on my collar, a nervousness rising up inside me.

"Yeah."

My eyes scan over the canvas, the electric blue colours were so much more vibrant under the lights of this gallery. I scanned my eyes over the two souls that danced with each other in a sunset galaxy of pinks and blues, they seemed to be sucked into each other with passion as they stared into the others eyes. The two held a certain world spiralling inside them, the dripping colours of electricity pulsed through them both as they connected with their blue souls inside their once dimmed bodies. The white tag underneath the canvas made my heart race, I couldn't help but feel like the was all a dream.

BLUE BY HARRY EDWARD STYLES

"It's beautiful Harry." Those words echoed in my head all night, my friends were in awe of the creation and my family smiled with such proudness in their features.

But when her blue eyes scanned over the girl in the painting, seemingly in touch with the colours and texture, she smiled. I couldn't read her smile, it left questions inside me that I couldn't help but blurt out in my anxious state.

"Sorry if you're not comfortable with it, I just-" soft lips press against mine and my body turns weak, eyes closing shut as she moves her mouth against mine, I taste the chapstick on her plump bottom lip as we depart and my eyes open in a haze.

"It's lovely," she says sturdily. "You're lovely."

I just blink a few times, unable to speak any words to this wonderful girl. She seems to understand my facial features, smiling as if to say she knows how much she means to me. I wasn't sure if she knew, that her universe held me with colours dripping and gave new meaning to everything in my world. But as I press my lips to hers again, letting her taste the longing in my soul before our lips departed, I hoped she knew how much of a wonderful creation she was to this world and my once lifeless universe.

"Harry Styles?" I turn my body around to see the art gallery owner, his piercing eyes crinkled as he grinned at me. Lola mimics my actions, keeping her eyes pinned to the ground as she kicks her feet around.

"Yeah."

"I'm Michael Tomlinson, I just wanted to congratulate you on this wonderful art piece." He speaks clearly, scanning his eyes behind me as he admires the painting.

"Thank you." I smile.

"There is a world wide competition coming up in a few months, I was going to enter a few artists from this exhibit and I wanted you to be one of them." The owner rubs his hands together, eyeing me with eagerness as he awaited my reply.

I couldn't help opening my mouth in awe, looking to Lola who gave me a weak smile. "I would be honoured."

"Great," he exclaims. "I'll leave the details with your teacher, Mrs Robinson. And I hope to see some more of your talent mister Styles."

The owner turns his body around to walk away, but stops short for a moment and spins back around swiftly. "Lola, I trust I'll be seeing you tomorrow night for dinner with my son?"

My eyebrows knit together in confusion, but somehow I felt like the biggest idiot not noticing it before. His eyes held the same piercing ocean blue that his did, his hair balding but that same brown and his smile almost exactly the same as the tattooed boy. The word son echoes in my head, thumping and thumping in my body to scream out in frustration. Michael Tomlinson soon leaves, and I find myself breathing out heavily as I take a seat on a nearby couch. Lola follows but keeps a weary distance as she places herself down next to me.

"Harry-"

"Don't."

"I'm sorry."

"I wish you would just tell me things Lola, this could jeopardise everything I'm working for." I reply with a sigh.

Lola swallows. "I won't let that happen."

I scoff. "You need to figure out something."

"Figure out what?" She replies with glassy eyes.

I stand up in frustration, running my fingers through my hair as she stays on the couch. "Who you want."

Lola goes to speak but a voice shouting my name stops her, her face falling as my friends and family make their way over to me at the couch. I leave the blue eyed girl where she sat, walking away from those bright eyes and plump lips with an ache in my chest.

***

authors note;

Hi! I put a photo of what I imaged Harry's painting to look like up, so you guys get an idea.

Hope you like this chapter.

-A