It's been a week since Harry has seen LT, well as much as he would see of him. He wishes they could have actually spoken, maybe talked about his inspiration for the art but no such luck. He was gone, like cloud blown away from a breeze.

He sits in a bar, a man obviously trying to hit on him but he's not interested. His friend, Niall, was giving him knowing looks from across the room where he was talking to a dyed redhead. Harry turns his attention to the man who was still talking. God, he needed a way out.

"...and then he just spilled his coffee all over himself!" the guys says, Harry can't remember his name. He instantly starts laughing and Harry chuckles along with him, although he doesn't know what he was going on about.

"Great, um, story. I need to use the bathroom. Excuse me," Harry says and stands, walking to the back of the pub quickly, making his way to the questionable bathrooms. He scans the bathroom, clad except for a man washing his hands.

He makes his way to one of the stalls, locking himself in and leaning against the wall. He lets out a deep breath and taps his head against the stall wall.

"Bad date?" the voice startles him and he opens his eyes. He looks through the small slot in the stall. It was the man that was washing his hands. Harry couldn't see him clearly, other than the outline of his back.

"Yeah... sort of," he says and the man shrugs, leaning against the grimy sink. Harry opens the stall, stepping out. He could see the mans reflection in the mirror, dull blue eyes staring back at him. He was ruggedly beautiful, from the small scruff around his lips to his callous fingertips that gripped the edge of the sink roughly.

"Hope it all works out," the man says and walks out of the bathroom without another word. Harry watches him leave, and door clicking shut behind him. The bathroom is quiet again. Until a man stumbles in to puke in one of the stalls. He takes that as his cue to leave.

He walks back into the pub, finding Niall snogging that redhead. He shakes his head, turning to look for the exit, walking out quickly, completely dodging the man at the bar.

He sends Niall a quick text saying that he was heading home and starts the short walk back to his flat. He stuffs his hands into his pockets, staring at the scenery around him, which, to be fair, wasn't much.

As he got nearer to his house, he took a different route, smiling deeply as he walked towards one of LT's oldest works. It was a large piece, filling up the entire wall of a vacant building. It made Harry dainty wonder how he made it.

It was a feminine face with callous hands covering her eyes. The work dripped as if wet and Harry just pondered on why he made something so... sad. It was just sad. He stares at it for a few moments before signing and continuing on his way.

✽✽✽✽

The next morning Harry wakes to his cat, Florence, pawing at his feet. He groans, tucking his feet in and shooing the grey fluff ball away. She only meows and hops off the bed.

"Menace," he whispers but sits up make checks his phone to find dozens of texts from Niall. They were mostly gibberish from his drunk night but the last one catches his eye.

I saw a new graffiti art by your mysterious boyfriend on my way to work.

Harry quickly types back the fact that they're not boyfriends but then asks where it was. Niall answered back quickly, a ramble of directions and Harry stands, making his way to the bathroom.

Florence follows, meowing at his feet. He only rolls his eyes, bending over to pet her softly, before stretching. He takes a long shower, letting the how water pound against his skin, washing away the distress from last night.

When he's done, he doesn't waste time, feeding Florence and making his way out of the house, towards the directions that Niall texted him. When he arrives, there's a crowd of people surrounding a vacant building, staring at the art displayed on the wall.

As Harry draws closer he can make out the swallow taking flight, beautifully drawn with exquisite details. It's wings are battered and looking broken but still, it's filled with determination as if even in its beat state, it could fly.

Harry states at the art in awe, completely mesmerized. That is until the police show up and demand for the crowd to disperse. He instantly becomes agitated at the fact that they mean to cover it, the same with the other work he saw the other day.

Many people leave but a few stragglers stay and they argue that the work is art and should not be taken down. Harry smiles at that. He's glad some people have an eye for art.

He turns to leave when he catches sight of a familiar face. It's the man from last night. He still looks terribly attractive, with his black skinnies and baggy tee. Harry walks towards him, noticing how the man is staring at the wall.

"It's great art, don't you think?" he asks. The man jumps at the voice, looking up a bit at Harry.

"Well if it isn't the guy from the pub. How'd your date go?" he asks, glancing back at the wall.

"I kinda just left. It wasn't a date, by the way. He just started talking to me. I'm Harry, by the way."

"Oh? Nice. And uh yeah, it's a good work," he says, answering Harry's earlier question. The taller lad looks back at the wall, admiring it for a moment.

"I love it. The artist, LT, he's just- I don't know how to explain it, but he has such great talent. I've loved his art from the start. It's so... amazing and there's a story behind it. I just don't know what that story is," Harry rambles, but stops himself when he notices the man staring.

"A story, huh? And what do you think is the meaning behind this one in particular," he asks, voice wavering.

"I don't know. Maybe that he's broken but trying to continue on with his life, trying to be better or something. There's different ways to interpret it," Harry explains. The man hums in approval before clearing his throat.

"Sorry- I uh didn't mean to bore you with my whole artsy talk," Harry apologizes. The man only smiles before shrugging. He opens his mouth to say something when his phone rings. He answers it, having a quick conversation with the other person on the line before hanging up.

"I have to go. Great talking to you, Harry,"
he says and turns away, sparing one last glance at the wall.

"Wait!" Harry calls and the man turns around quickly, "I uh, never got your name," the man quirks a small smile, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Wouldn't you like to know," he says before turning and leaving without another word.

-

okay so the next chapters until the end will all be written by me since this was as far as larryafhbu got :) hope u all enjoy my writing lol!!