AN: Hey guys! Sorry it took me so long to update yet again. I was going to yesterday but I literally passed out as soon as I went to bed. I also kinda had some writers block :/

ALSO 700 READS THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!

Hopefully this chapter will make up for it!! I love you!

~Alex

●●●●●

The next day was an eventful one to say the least.

Harry had offered to let Theo and Oliver stay at his place all week since McKenna was currently invading my apartment. I insisted that he didn't need to do that, but he assured me that it was no problem and it gave him a chance to get to know my brothers better.

McKenna was furious when I came home last night, complaining about how I left her alone without even letting her know anything. I calmed her down by saying I was with Harry the entire night and yesterday, which earned an 'okay slut' remark on her part. I waved her words away, knowing that she was only trying to get into my head.

In all honesty, I was glad Harry had wanted my brothers to stay with him. It gave them a chance to get to know him better and I knew that they would report everything to mom and dad.

Liam pestered me all day about what happened after he had left with Louis, completely shocked that I had closed the store down so early. He made me tell him everything. From when my brothers walked in on us, to the time when I arrived home last night.

"You're going to his sister's wedding!" Liam shouted in excitement and I shushed him quickly as every head in the room turned our way.

"What is it with you and being so loud?" I grumble as my cheeks redden with embarrassment, now feeling every prodding eye on us.

Liam only rolls his eyes at my remark. "This is something to be loud about," he replies, "You two are making really good progress."

I guess you could say we were. As of right now, everything in our relationship was going well. We haven't had a fight or an argument yet - which seemed too good to be true - but something felt off about all of this. I had this lurking feeling that something bad was about to happen and everything we'd worked so hard for would come crumbling down into bits and pieces. I tried not to think too much about it though, knowing it was just going to bother me the entire time.

"Just don't jinx us," I mumble, leaving our conversation at that.

The rest of the day involved flowers, flowers, and more flowers. We had quite a bit of customers today and sold more than we usually do on a day to day basis, "You'd think it was Valentine's Day 2.0," Liam once said to me as we walked past each other at one point with bouquets of flowers in our arms.

We were both relieved when it was time to close down, our arms and legs feeling heavy from the busy hustle of the day.

"I'm ready to go home and pass out," I sigh as I lock the door behind us. Unfortunately, I couldn't go home. I had promised Harry and my brothers that I would stop by on the way home from work and we'd all go out to eat, "Tell Lou I said hi," I call out to Liam as we head opposite ways.

He replies with a will do and then I'm on my own again as I walk the two blocks to Harry's place.

It was kind of odd to think that I'd walked by Harry's place all of these months and not even realized it. I wondered how many times we'd crossed paths without even knowing it, whether it be walking past each other on the street or if I was walking by just as he was leaving his apartment.

Now - if I was being honest - I couldn't imagine my life without that head of curls. It was crazy what one person could do to you, leaving you wondering how different your life would be in that exact moment if you'd never met them.

Harry has made such a huge impact on my life during the little time that I've known him. It's like I see things from a different perspective whenever he's around. He reminds me a lot of my grandmother actually.

She always made the world sound so beautiful and interesting. She saw beauty in everything and made sure that everyone around her was happy.

Harry was the same way in my opinion. Everything he saw, he saw beauty behind it and saw a story that went along with it. He strived to make others feel happiness and joy, his eyes lighting up once he knew that he had succeeded.

I was surrounded by incredible people and I couldn't be more thankful.

My hand knocked on the white door in front of me and I was greeted with wonder-filled eyes seconds later.

"Aurora," Harry smiles before taking me into his arms and kissing me softly.

My body melted into him as I was held in his warm and inviting embrace, wanting nothing more than to just stay this way forever. He tried pulling away, but I refused, latching my lips onto his once again, earning a small chuckle.

"Miss me?" He grins once I finally pull away.

"Always," I reply, pressing one last lingering kiss to his plump lips before allowing myself to completely enter his apartment.

Theo and Oliver were sitting on the couch as I walked into the living room, watching a show I didn't recognize, "Why are you two dressed in your pajamas? I thought we were going out."

They turn to look at me with amusement dancing in their eyes, "We have a surprise for you two," Theo smiles before getting up, Oliver following right behind him.

"They wouldn't let me into my studio all day," Harry mutters in my ear as we follow behind them.

"Since you can't draw or paint worth a shit, Rory," Oliver starts before opening the door to Harry's studio, "I thought, why not have a professional artist teach her?"

My eyes widen as I take in what was in front of me, smiling as my eyes travel over the intricately decorated room.

Two easels were set up side by side, along with practically all of Harry's art supplies and two blank canvases. A sign that read, Harry's Art School for Aurora, was taped to the wall and I couldn't help but laugh, turning to Harry to see his reaction.

"You sure you didn't know about this?" I grin at him, noticing the way happiness was shining in his eyes.

"I had absolutely no clue," Harry chuckles and the door closes softly behind us, leaving Harry and I alone, "Shall we get started then?"

I let him lead me over to the first easel, sitting down on the stool as he sits down beside me, "So what are we drawing today, Mr. Styles?" I grin, watching him as he observes the multitude of paints and paintbrushes laid out in front of him.

He purses his lips as he thinks, his eyes traveling over me before looking out the window, "I'll be right back," Harry mumbles before quickly kissing me on my forehead, leaving the room in record time.

Chatter comes from outside of the room and I hear the shuffling of feet going down the hall. A bird flies by the window as I stare at the beautiful city. I was sure nothing in the world could compare to this view, it being the perfect perspective of being able to see all of the people going about their business on what seemed to be a regular day.

Harry enters the room minutes later with a small vase of flowers in his hand. I watch as he sets it down on his desk, angling it just right as to where the fading sunlight filters through the purple and white petals, "We're going to be painting flowers," he grins.

"Or at least attempting to on my half."

"You're going to do fine," he assures me as he sits down beside me. He hands me a pencil before grabbing one himself, "Start with the vase that the flowers are in. Take in every small detail and curve of the glass. Pay attention to the little things."

My eyes observe the vase that was sitting only a few feet away from me, noticing the small curvature of the vase as it grows from larger to smaller near the top. The vase had this crystal effect to it, making it look almost like a distorted version of reality as it showed the green stems resting in the water that was inside of it.

"Now just let your hand trace out what you're seeing. Let your hand become your eyes."

The pencil in my hand starts tracing out a version of the vase in front of me, my eyes glancing back and forth between the white canvas and the vase. My bottom lip rests between my teeth as I concentrated, trying to make it look as realistic as possible.

I look at my depiction in satisfaction, smiling a bit to myself once I realize it doesn't look like complete shit. That was until I looked over at Harry's. "What the hell," I huff as I compare mine to his, seeing how much better his looked.

"Don't compare, darling," Harry chuckles, leaning over to kiss my temple, "It looks good."

"You're just saying that," I cross my arms as I stick out my bottom lip in a pout.

"I am not," he smiles.

I mumble a sure before he starts talking about drawing the purple asters and flowering spurge, groaning in agony once I realize I'd have to draw the small details of the flowering spurge.

Harry stands behind me as he instructs me on how to start the aster, "Start with the center of the flower first. Look at the way the flowers are arranged and map out exactly where they're at in the vase and on your canvas."

My first circle turned out to be an oval, and so did the one after that. "It doesn't have to be perfect, Aurora. Nothing in life is perfect," he assures me as I go to erase my third attempt at drawing a circle.

Says the one who is the literal definition of perfection.

This time, I don't erase my wonky circle, glancing over my shoulder at Harry who had his bottom lip between his thumb and pointer finger as he stared at me. I could tell he knew I was a lost cause when it came to drawing, but refused to give up on me.

"Now draw the petals. Notice how they overlap and lean in different directions? Try drawing them exactly like that," he suggests before motioning for me to start drawing again.

I take a deep breath before narrowing my focus onto the purple aster that was leaning slightly over the edge of the vase, taking in every small petal and how they each overlapped and touched one another.

My first petal looked nothing like the one sitting in front of me, the curves going every which way instead of copying the real petal, "Calm down and breathe," Harry murmurs in my ear, moving my brown hair off of my shoulders, "Focus on the aster and nothing else."

"It's kind of hard to do that when you're touching me," I reply. He moves away from me with a chuckle, sitting back down on his stool and drawing his version of the flowers.

The next petal didn't turn out horrible and I continue to concentrate, blocking out everything around me.

Harry talks me through every small action, telling me exactly what to do and how to do it.

A lot of frustrated sighs and groans leave my lips at every small pencil stroke, while he looks completely calm with every move he makes. Although mine didn't look like complete garbage, it still didn't look decent either. A kindergarten could've done way better than me.

It was all rather calming though. The sound of pencil scratching paper and our soft breaths filling the quiet air around us as we drew our own versions of the flowers in front of us. I was sure that once I stood up from the stool I was sitting on, every bone in my body would ache from my stiff position and bad posture.

Even though I was concentrating on drawing, my mind still wandered off to different topics, all of them mostly about Harry.

I've never seen anyone look so at peace with the world than when I saw Harry drawing or painting. It was like he traveled off into his own little universe as he became one with the canvas and his thoughts.

His eyes seemed to soften as they traveled between the flowers and the canvas, the corners of his mouth slightly curling downwards as he concentrated on every small stroke of his pencil that rested in his hand. Every small detail fell under his complete and undivided attention. The curls framing his face and soft sunlight never seemed to bother him as he let himself fall completely into his passion for art.

"Ready to paint now?" He smiles at me once we both finish drawing.

"I guess," I say rather uneasily.

He gets up excitedly from his stool and starts grabbing different paintbrushes and paint colors, laying them all out for me, "This is my favorite part."

"I couldn't tell," I giggle, noticing the way he was practically beaming with excitement.

"I'll mix the colors for us and then we'll get started."

Harry grabs many different shades of purples and greens before observing the flowers, pursing his lips. He talks to himself as he mixes the colors, comparing them to the petals before adding a hint of white or purple, making sure he got the exact same shade as the petals.

"Here," Harry smiles, grabbing a paintbrush and dipping it into the purple that he created, "This should be the easy part, Aurora. Just fill in the lines."

"You apparently don't know me very well," I deadpan as he easily starts making small strokes of purple onto the white canvas, holding his brush at the perfect angle.

Taking a deep breath, I copy his movements and hand placement. He looks over at me and notices how uptight I look, tutting at me before getting up and standing behind me.

"You look uncomfortable," he says before placing his hand over mine, his chest pressing into my back, "Like this."

He then begins to moves my hand against the canvas, making small strokes as he guides my paintbrush along the white material, "Although you want to be careful, you need to be fluent and carefree with your hand and brush movements. Let your paintbrush dance against the canvas. Let it tell its own story with every small stroke and line of color."

I close my eyes as he guides my hand across the canvas, relishing the way his body heat was seeping into my shirt and the sound of his voice as he talked in my ear. His way of explaining things when it came to art was breathtaking and beautiful.

"You're supposed to be paying attention, darling," he chuckles once he notices my eyes are closed.

"I am. You just explain it so well," I whisper as I turn my head around to kiss his sweet lips.

He hums against my mouth, pulling away from me with a smile that reached his eyes, "Finish your artwork, Miss Honeycutt. Class isn't over with yet."

"Yes, Mr. Styles," I smile and he laughs at my words, returning to his seat once more to finish his painting.

The setting sun and soft sound of the cold air coming in through the vents in the floor was the perfect mixture of calm and inviting as we spoke to each other while painting.

Even though Harry's looked more realistic and cleaner than mine, I was still rather proud of my artwork. It was definitely better than what I've done in the past and Harry agreed with me when I said a kindergartner could do better.

"The last step is to sign your masterpiece," Harry says once we're both satisfied with our results. He hands me a black sharpie and I quickly sign my signature in the bottom corner, "Aurora Honeycutt. You have just created your very first masterpiece."

"I wouldn't call it a masterpiece. Yours on the other hand," I motion towards his canvas, "That's a true masterpiece."

His signature was sloppy yet readable, describing his personality exactly right, "Anything is a masterpiece if you put time and effort into it," Harry replies, wrapping his arm around my waist as we stare at each other's artwork, the sun finally falling behind the buildings of Rome and resting for the night.

Little did I know exactly how right he was.