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That day, during the free period I decided to disappear for a little bit again, feeling like I needed some alone time to gather my thoughts and take in the new situation.

I was sitting on the steps like usual, clinging to my coat as I sketched the building on the opposite side of the street, when I heard the door behind me being opened. The faint sound of steps reached the short wall a little behind me, but I didn't look up, figuring that it might've just been some stranger trying to spend some time alone as well.

My pencil stopped on the paper page of my notepad, though, when the person sat next to me.

I looked up all of sudden, confusion written all over my features when my eyes met a pair of amber ones, making me realise that it wasn't who I thought it would've been at all.

He passed a hand through his raven hair, pushing it back, before speaking. "So you're the reason why Harry's dropped us lately."

I frowned, not understanding what was going on. "I don't think I'm following" I answered truthfully.

"Oh come on" Zayn said with a little ironic laugh, "he's been spending day after day with you, acts like we don't even exist anymore."

"Oh" I replied, surprise in my voice. I hadn't really realised that Harry spending time with me implied him not spending time with his friends before that. "I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "Ah, it's alright. Just wanted to see the reason why myself. Curious about what he finds of so interesting in you, that's all."

I pursed my lips, not knowing what to reply to something like that.

"The thing is, when you're friends with Harry you start to realise that's more of an honour than anything else. He could drop you all of sudden, and you'd just understand it, like it would just make sense." He let out a small chuckle. "It's hard to get his attention, but it's even harder to keep it." He threw a cigarette butt on the floor and stomped on it, making me realise that I hadn't even noticed he was smoking, being way too concentrated over his words. "But I'm sure you know what I'm talking about."

I gave him a small nod, shutting my notepad when I noticed his eyes were wandering over my sketch. I always hated when people looked at my drawings without my permission in general, and I disliked it even more when people looked at my sketches before they were finished. I'd always lived by the belief that my drawings were awful until I finished them, so it was really important for me to keep them secret until they were ready to be shown.

"Well, I should go" he said, standing up. "I'll see you around, mysterious girl."

Before I could even say anything, he had already gone back inside, leaving the main door to shut at its own pace behind himself.

I stayed outside for some more minutes, trying to make sense of the conversation I'd just had, before shaking my head and standing up, entering the building as well.

I walked in the direction of the cafeteria, my notepad safe again in my pocket, but was stopped right before I could go inside.

"Sierra" a voice said, and I turned around fast, getting the sudden instinct of leaving as soon as I realised it was Aiden.

Of course, I wasn't really that kind of person, so I just waited for him to reach me, anxiously tapping against my phone, that was hidden in the pocket of my coat.

"Is it true?" He asked as soon as he reached me, and I furrowed my eyebrows, having no idea of what he was talking about. He sighed loudly. "I heard Janette say Harry stood her up on Saturday night and then left her for you" he explained, "so I asked her about it and I discovered she went to the same place we did, and that Harry left at around the same time you did. Did you really stand me up to go hang out with him?"

I widened my eyes at his words. "Uh..." I looked at him, realising that I had no idea of what to say. It would've been common sense to explain the reason behind my actions or say I was sorry, but the truth was, I didn't feel like I owed him any explanation, and I surely wasn't sorry for ditching that awful date to spend the rest of the night with Harry.

He let out a distressed sigh at the lack of answers on my side. "What the hell, Sierra. What does Harry have that makes him so interesting? He's playing you, that's what he does! He will leave. You know he will."

I looked at the wall behind him, trying to find something good to reply to him, but I realised I didn't need to when I felt a faint touch on my arm as someone stepped next to me. I looked down, trying my best not to blush when I recognised the smell of his cologne.

"Is there a problem?" Harry asked while staring straight into Aiden's eyes, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Aiden glared at him in return, but decided it would've been best not to start a fight in the hallway. "Whatever" he mumbled, walking past us and going away.

"Funny how he dislikes me so much, and I don't even know the guy's name" Harry said lowly, making me chuckle.

"He's Aiden" I said, walking inside the cafeteria, and he shrugged, walking next to me.

"I'd remember it if it was the littlest bit relevant" he deadpanned, and I bit my lower lip to keep a small smile to form on my lips at the shortness of his answer.

•  •  •

Later that day, I opened the door as soon as Harry rang the doorbell, not wanting to make him wait too long in fear that he would've left. I scooted to the side to allow him to walk in, giving him a half glance as he stepped inside and swiftly removed his coat.

I walked up the stairs with him following me, glancing around my bedroom to try to understand what would've been the best position to draw him in. My teacher wanted something that would've been at least somewhat artistic, which drastically diminished my possibilities in that room. I sighed when I realised that the only place that would've allowed me to give some kind of artistic cut to my drawing was my bed.

"You can go on my bed" I said faintly, watching as he took off his shoes and sat down on my bed, crossing his legs and waiting for more directions.

I leant against the side of my desk, trying to find out how to draw him in a way that wouldn't have been just repeating my last few drawings. "You can" I said, "uh, you could..." I let my words drift off when I realised I had no idea of how to do it that time, letting out an exasperated sigh. "I feel like I've already done everything" I said, hopelessness in my voice.

"You could draw me shirtless."

I snapped my head up at the sound of Harry's voice, frowning at the weird offer.

He was giving me an enigmatic look from where he was sitting on the bed, waiting for me to say something.

I thought about it for a few seconds, not taking long to realise that was probably one of the few ways I hadn't drawn him in yet. "Alright" I said, almost whispered, in the end, and he stood up.

I turned around as he took off his shirt, feeling as if it was too intimate of an action to look at him as he did it. I nervously played with my pencil, tapping it on the desk, my lower lip held between my teeth as I looked out of the window, the faint reflection of the room behind me against the white sky. I heard the mattress squeak softly as Harry sat down on it, telling me that he was indeed done. I took a deep breath, willing myself to behave nothing less than what was strictly professional once I would've turned around.

I looked over my shoulder, discovering that Harry was indeed sitting down, his forearms inadvertently covering his middle, his hair dishevelled because of him taking off his clothes.

I pursed my lips, trying my best to look at nothing else but his face as I decided what to do next. I glanced to the wall behind him after a while, feeling as if his stare had somehow grown of intensity since he'd taken off his shirt, making me feel like it would've been too much for me to hold.

"Maybe lean against the headboard?" I said after a while, deciding that it would've been better to sketch him as I'd done some days before.

He nodded, shifting backwards and leaning against it, his shoulder blades slightly flinching when the cold wood touched his skin, his hands apprehensively playing with the soft blanket on his sides as he stared out of the window as he often did.

I took the paper sheet and the book from the chair I'd previously put next to the bed, sitting against the wall and carefully paying attention not to accidentally brush Harry's arm. I started to sketch on the paper, but stopped after a while, realising that the picture I was trying to recreate wasn't that close to being artistic at all. I sighed, putting the paper aside and staring at the floor in the middle of the room, thinking of what I could've done instead.

I looked up suddenly as a new idea struck me, suddenly wondering why it'd never come to my mind before.

Harry looked at me, a confused look on his face as I stood up fast from the bed, giving him a half glance before rushing out of the room.

I went into the bathroom, turning on the light and looking around until my eyes fell on a bathtub. I stared at it for a few seconds, thinking of the logistics of doing something like that, before deciding that it was worth the risk and going back into my bedroom, where I found Harry still sitting on my bed.

I reached the chair and took the pencil I'd left on it before leaning a bit forward over Harry's legs and taking the book and the paper sheet. "Come with me" I told him, turning around before I could let my eyes wander over his shirtless chest.

I went back to the bathroom, where I'd left the light still on, and put the book and the pencil on a corner of the bathtub. I debated for a second the possibility of filling it with water, but it didn't take me long to realise that Harry would've had to wear at least his boxers to go inside, leaving him to go home in the cold weather wearing wet clothes. I sighed, promising myself to tell him to bring a change of clothes the next time he came around before the end of the day, and I turned around, discovering that he was leaning against the doorway, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked at the bathtub.

"We'll use water on another day" was the first thing that left my mouth, to go along with my eagerness to let him know I wasn't planning of making him have a bath that afternoon. "Get inside" I continued, moving to the side to allow him better access to the bathtub.

He followed my instructions, carefully lowering himself down not to slip on the polished surface and leaning against it as he had against the headboard, goosebumps forming on his skin at the contact.

I momentarily left the room to grab the stool from the studio, before going back in the bathroom and closing the door, not wanting any embarrassing situation to happen in case my mum - or worse, my dad - had come back home a bit earlier than usual.

I sat on it and started to sketch the basic shape of Harry's chest, keeping the pencil trait light so that I could've easily fixed it when I would've drawn him in the water. I drew his head carefully, refraining from shading it in any way in case I would've wanted to fix it later on, before going back to his chest and starting to fix the previous lines and add some details.

I furrowed my eyebrows as I took in the swirls of black ink on his chest for the first time. It wasn't the first time I'd drawn him shirtless, but before I'd just barely drawn the shape of his tattoos, only recognising them as two birds and a butterfly, some smaller ones I'd barely seen on his collarbones and left arm. But now, standing right in front of him, it would've been impossible not to notice them for what they truly were.

I tilted my head to the side, taking in the intricate design of the two birds under his collarbones, that seemed almost ready to take flight at any moment.

Harry looked down to his chest, following my gaze and realising what I was looking at. "They represent two people I care about" he said in a faint whisper, giving them one last glance before giving me an attentive look. "They're free now."

I frowned at his words, not understanding what he was talking about. "From what?"

He gave me an indecipherable glance before replying. "Everything."

I nodded at his words, pretending to know what he was talking about, putting down the paper sheet and leaning my elbows against the side of the bathtub, allowing myself to let my eyes wander down the wings of the swallows under his collarbones to the antenna of the butterfly in the middle of his chest, pursing my lips as I observed the quality of the tattoo. And the butterfly? Does it represent you?" I asked before I could stop myself, trying to go along with his style of interpretation of the drawings he'd etched into his skin.

He gave me a sharp look at my question, his eyes burning into mine. "I'm no butterfly."

I looked down, not knowing what to say, my eyes drifting to the sketch I'd left on the floor. I took it again and drew the faint outline of his tattoos, not wanting them to be too detailed before I was perfectly sure they looked exactly like they would've with the water in the tub. It didn't take long, and soon I was staring at an unshaded sketch that was good enough to be considered done, at least until when I would've managed to have the full picture in front of my eyes.

"I'm done" I said, following him when, after having got out of the empty bathtub, he walked back in my bedroom to get the rest of his clothes. "I'd like to try it with water the next time" I said as he put on his shirt, hoping that he would've got my hint and remembered to bring a change of clothes.

He gave me a small nod, sitting on the bed to put on his shoes before standing up again, his eyes burning into mine from where he was standing in the middle of the room. "I was wondering..." he said, initially letting his words drift away, "if you'd like to come to a party with me on Saturday night."

I frowned at his request. "Uh, I don't know, I... I have..." I glanced around the room, trying to find a good reason to tell him I didn't want to go.

The corners of his lips turned up almost imperceptibly as he took in my insecurity and inability to answer. "I'll pick you up at ten" he said, before turning around and exiting my bedroom, leaving him to stare at where he'd been with an incredulous look on my face.

I sighed as soon as I heard the front door shut, sitting down on my bed, trying to refrain from the sudden need to shout.

Sometimes it felt like Harry had fun in making me do whatever he wanted me to do.

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