The Executive & The Artist (H.S)

XXIII

NAT had acquired the fear of being alone.

She came to this verdict after having to spend an entire week cooped up in her (very empty) flat, finishing up the paintings she'd been neglecting the past month whilst being caught up with a certain curly haired, painfully organized man. The studio was being rented out by an art camp, and sure Nat was getting money from their use out of it but now she had to stay in the (very empty)flat. The kitchen counters were no longer dirty with all the foods Liv spilled on them, the couch's cushions no longer had that indent where Niall's arse resided and Nat's painfully reminded of their absence she passed their (very empty) room.

Nat had acquired the fear of being alone because she'd never been alone long enough to realize it.

Until she had to spend an entire week cooped up in her (very empty) flat. Then she realized it.

Harry couldn't get away from his work. An employee had to be yelled at, the maids forgot to come yesterday so they had to be yelled at, Linda the secretary had to be yelled at for yelling at Harry for yelling at the incompetent employee and the forgetful maids. Harry couldn't get away from his work because work came first even when all he had to do was yell at employees and maids and secretaries and occasionally Nat but when he yelled at Nat she always bested him so he didn't do that much.

"It's just lunch. You can take a half hour out of your day, Harry" she told him, legs dangling from the kitchen counter with soft music drifting languidly throughout the flat because music made is seem less (very) empty. It was Thursday and Nat had already chewed her nails down to the quick because she'd acquired the fear of being alone and that was the first time she realized it. He sighed heavily into her ear and said "you know I'd love to, but I have work. I don't think you understand the empire I have to run, how much responsibility I have." "It's a half hour." "Natalie, I don't have time for this." "Tell me exactly what you have to do in the time frame it would take for you to bring me lunch."

There was a pause, then a grumble that Nat could tell was a curse word. "As much as I adore giving into every one of your little naive whims, I cannot deal with you being a child right now. I know that you don't deal with the logistics of your little company so I don't blame you for not understanding, but I cannot and will not come bring you lunch. Maybe I can come after work-" "My sales last month were over £50,000. I handle logistics just fine now that my best friend abandoned my company and I am working it on my own, Harry. And don't bother coming here after work- I'm sure your company needs you more than you need me."

And she hung up. And it hurt a lot because she hadn't seen him that entire, dreadful week and she'd acquired a fear of being alone and she wasn't even hungry. She wanted him to bring her lunch so she'd stop shaking every time she took a break from painting. Her art distracted her from the evils that be, but once she stopped or tried to sleep she'd start shaking, her palms would sweat, she'd feel fragile and fragile is never a good feeling. Harry had a habit of making her strong.

But she hung up and there was nothing else to do on the matter.

So she started painting again.

Days passed (lonely days) and Harry wouldn't come into contact with her in any way. She went bird food shopping herself- which really sucked because her pretty, pretty bird was getting hungry but she wanted Harry to be there with her, to experience it with her. It sounded clingy and odd, but she was under the impression that Harry would have a kind of co-ownership with her, since they found it together and he paid for a vet to come. But she went bird food shopping by herself and kind of regretted giving so much of her earnings to charity because bird food was expensive.