"I'm Harry Styles. The artist."

Those same words kept replaying in my head as I stare at him in awe. There's no way I was standing in front of the artist who created these masterpieces. It was a thought that couldn't seem to wrap my brain around, "You're the artist?"

He nods his head, staring at me with a look in his emerald green eyes that I couldn't seem to describe. I watch him as he takes the empty glass of champagne in my hand and exchanges it for a glass of wine, taking one for himself as well.

"I liked how you described my paintings," Harry says, taking a sip of his wine, "It makes me feel like I've succeeded."

I hum in response, moving on to the next painting. He follows closely behind me and watches my face as I observe it, "Succeeded in what exactly?" I glance at him from the corner of my eye, noticing he was staring at me intently.

"Making people feel a certain type of emotion when they look at my painting. I'd be afraid if they felt nothing at all," he chuckles softly, "What type of emotion do you see in this one?"

My eyes roam over the painting, taking in the colors and the model. Although the face almost always gives it away, this one was different. This time the person wasn't showing their face, only just barely half. The only thing you could see was the corner of their eye. Their face didn't need to be shown to understand what type of emotion was being portrayed, the body language giving it all away.

"At first glance you would think it portrayed melancholy by the way you used different shades of blue, immediately hinting at sadness. Looking at it closer, you can see that it has nothing to do with any type of sadness.

"It simply portrays tranquility. The model is at peace with the world as they look out into the great beyond of the ocean, feeling as calm as the waves washing ashore," I explain, feeling myself rambling on. I hesitantly turn my head to look at him, wondering if maybe I'd completely butchered the true meaning behind the beautiful piece of art.

Once again, the look in his eyes was indescribable, making me feel a different type of nervousness I've never felt before, "How have I never met you before?" He asks with a slight grin, taking a small sip of his wine, the red liquid bringing out the already plump redness of his lips.

A soft laugh escapes my lips and we start walking together, seeing that I had reached the end of his paintings, "I'm here with a friend who knows your friend Louis," I tell him, earning a nod and a soft chuckle from him, "I never go out anymore so I thought that I would tonight. So far there are no regrets."

"That's always good to hear," Harry chuckles and my heart seems to flip at the simple sound.

We continue walking and talking together, Harry stopping and greeting people here and there. I spot Liam and Louis standing together as Harry is talking to someone and I walk up to them, deciding to get away from the crowd for a few minutes. I watch as Liam laughs at something Louis says, not intruding on their conversation.

"You're back! How'd you like it?" Louis smiles at me.

"All of Harry's art is amazing. I've never seen anything quite like it," I admit. Louis nods in agreement and places his arm around Liam's waist, the small action causing a blush to rise to Liam's cheeks.

The three of us make small talk while the crowd slowly gets smaller, hinting it was getting late. Harry was nowhere to be seen and I caught myself searching for him in the crowd more than once.

"I think we're going to head out. Do you want to join us?" Louis offers and I debate as to whether or not I was ready to leave.

I still wanted to talk to Harry for some reason. He seemed like such an interesting person and I'd love to hear about how he gets his inspiration, "No you two go ahead. I think I'm going to stay a bit longer," I reply after a second of hesitation, "It was lovely meeting you, Louis! I hope we can meet again soon."

"You too, Aurora. Don't stay out too late," he winks at me, almost as if he knew the true reason I was staying behind.

Liam hugs me goodbye, taking the empty glass of wine out of my hand, "Don't have anymore. You've already had three tonight," he whispers in my ear before walking away. I laugh to myself, waving goodbye to them as they leave hand in hand.

While I waited for Harry, I decided to look around again, wanting to be able to take the paintings in once again. Now that there were only a few people left I could take my time observing the paintings, finally being able to hear my thoughts and let myself dive deeper into my mind. They were all so breathtaking in their unique way. One painting out of all of them intrigued me most.

This one didn't have just one person in it. It was a street filled with people holding umbrellas above their heads, hinting it was raining. The Eiffel Tower was far away in the background surrounded by lights. What stood out to me most was in the middle of the street there was a couple without an umbrella. They seemed to just be casually holding hands and talking as if it weren't pouring rain. I sit down on the bench that was in front of it and take off my shoes, taking in every little detail.

Everything about the painting seemed to be centered around them even though there was so much chaos going on around them. People seemed to be running from the rain, trying to get home before it started raining any harder than what it already was. It looked as if it were late at night by the way the lights were lining the street that the people walked along.

Words couldn't describe how this painting made me feel. The easiest way to describe it would to simply just say happy, even though it made me feel something deeper than just happiness. What I wouldn't do to be able to experience a love like that.

"This is my favorite one," Harry says from beside me. I look over at him, noticing he had sat down beside me without me realizing, "I took this picture when I was in Paris and felt so inspired by it that I just had to paint it."

"What were they doing?"

"They were just standing in the rain, acting as if it weren't raining at all. The biggest smiles were on their faces and they didn't seem to have a care in the world at that certain moment. Everyone else was rushing to get out of it while they looked as if they could've stayed there forever," Harry explains, his eyes twinkling as he recalls the memory, a small smile playing on his lips.

Although I didn't say it to him, I agreed. This one was my favorite out of all of them, "What was it like?" I ask him, earning a confused look from his part, "Paris I mean."

"It was stunning. I've never seen anything quite like it. I hated leaving."

"Then why did you?"

He chuckles and returns his gaze to the painting, "You ask a lot of questions don't you?" He says, completely avoiding my question.

I shrug my shoulders, taking in his side profile, "I'm just a curious person."

"Well, that's a secret I like to keep to myself," Harry replies. I nod my head and bite the inside of my cheek before looking away from him, "I never got your name by the way."

"Oh. It's Aurora."

"Aurora," he smiles, my name rolling off of his tongue in a way that gave me butterflies, "Like the princess?"

"Yeah. My mom loved that story when she was young. She loved it so much that she named her first daughter after it," I smile, shaking my head a bit at the stories she would tell me about the arguments her and my father would have over her decision to do so, "I remember when I was younger I used to dress up like a princess and we would reenact the story."

I smile fondly at the memory, remembering how we used my favorite stuffed animal as the prince. My mom would be the evil queen and we'd have such a blast, "I'm sorry. You didn't ask about all of that," I realized that I'd rambled on too much. To a stranger of all people...although he was starting to feel less and less like a stranger and more like someone I've known my entire life.

"It's okay," he smiles at me, a small dimple deepening on his cheeks, "It's getting a bit late and I need to lock up. Would you mind waiting outside and I'll walk you home?"

"Sure. That sounds nice," I reply, putting my heels back on and standing up while trying to hide my blushing cheeks and giddy smile. Harry leads me to the door and disappears back inside as I wait underneath the pale moonlight of the moon that seemed to be shining extra bright tonight.

It was a warm night, the sky clear, showing the multiple stars twinkling above. The streets were empty and I realized I had no idea what time it was. I check the time on my phone and see that it's 1 AM. Have I been here for that long?

Harry emerges from the door, locking it behind him, and walks up to me, "Ready?" I nod my head and we start walking down the street towards my apartment.

As we're walking we talk about the most random things, our conversation seeming as if it would never come to an end. Of course, we asked the most basic ones of where we're originally from and what I did for a living but the topics seemed to always remain interesting. Harry seemed like a rather interesting person although he did hold a mysterious side to him that was a bit intimidating.

"I have another question for you," I say to him and the smile on his face seems to grow, "Where do you get your inspiration from?"

"It's really simple actually," he chuckles, glancing over at me, "Beauty. If I find something or someone beautiful, it inspires me. It's something all artists are drawn to. Beautiful things are my weakness."

"Makes sense," I nod my head, finding the question rather stupid now that I asked it.

"I have a question for you this time," he says after a few seconds of silence and I grin, knowing I had been the one asking all of the questions the entire night, "How do you know so much about art?"

I smile, knowing he was going to ask that question sooner or later, "My dad is an art professor. He taught me everything I know."

"So can you draw or paint?"

"Not at all," I laugh, shaking my head, "Sadly, that was one of the things he didn't pass on to me. I wish he had." All of my life growing up, I had wished I was as artistic as my dad. I envied the way some kids I went to school with could effortlessly doodle a small drawing on their paper and it looks good.

After a few more minutes of walking and talking, we arrived at my apartment building. I found myself feeling a bit sad, wishing our time together didn't have to end. Harry was a very interesting person to talk to. The way he described things or talked about something made it sound more interesting than it actually was, "This is me."

We stop in front of the stairs, both of us facing each other and not knowing what to do, "I had a lovely time with you tonight, Aurora. I hope we meet again soon," Harry finally says, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Me too. Bye, Harry Styles. The artist," I smile. He laughs softly and waves goodbye to me as I walk up the steps and to the door.

"Bye, Aurora," I hear him call to me as the door shuts. I wave at him through the small window before watching him disappear from my line of sight.

Tonight was probably the most fun I've had in a while. Harry made the night even more interesting with his beauty that still took my breath away every time I glanced at him or stared at him for long enough. Even though we didn't get each other's numbers, I had a feeling deep down that we would meet again. It may not be tomorrow or next week, but I know we'll see each other again. Hopefully, it was sooner than later.