Abscond [h.s]

Chapter 67

Harry and I arrived at the museum later in the afternoon after we had lunch. Luckily it wasn't busy since it was a weekday, which also reminded me that we both had many, many emails from the school, asking us where the hell we were. Harry promised me that he would take care of it, getting us out of the system and all. I let him do that, not wanting to stress myself out by thinking of all the paperwork he's probably doing.

We walked into the large building hand in hand, Harry guiding me through the exhibits. They were all very beautiful, each painting was very unique and aesthetically pleasing, but I thought Harry's paintings were prettier. I watched Harry as he looked at the different paintings, how he admired them and I couldn't help but think if he looked at me that way, or with even more admiration.

Harry would try and explain each painting to me, only stopping when he realized that I didn't understand a single thing he was saying. He would tell me about the different paints and the different types of wood for the framing. Of course I found it all very neat and kind of interesting, I just got lost in the sound of his voice to even pay attention anymore. He told me about the meaning behind every painting, like he knew them by heart and I wondered how many times he's been here before. His hand intertwines with mine once again, squeezing it gently and I lean into his arm as he admires the works of art and I admire my own work of art.

After a while it gets the same, walking around and looking at different paintings and artists that seem to all blend together the longer you go. I sat myself down on a cushiony bench inside one of the exhibits, resting my arm on me knee and my chin on my hand, watching Harry again as he observed all the paintings.

"Braydon come look at the artwork!" He says excitedly, trying to keep his voice quiet. I smile and walk over to him keeping my eyes on his as I say,

"I am." I watch as Harry blushes and grabs my waist, pressing his lips quickly to mine, sending me into a fit of giggles as we try to kiss while laughing. We some how manage to keep our lips firmly pressed together while smiling, Harry's tongue slipping in between my lips to rub against mine, his hands holding my waist tightly.

It wasn't long before a security guard saw us kissing in front of a Monet painting and asked us to stop. Well, he awkwardly coughed, loud enough for the both of us to hear and we separated, embarrassed.

We walked through the rest of the museum with one of Harry's hands wrapped around my waist, keeping my close to him. As we entered the final exhibit for the day, I noticed our neighbor, the old lady still dressed in black from head to toe, standing at the end of the room observing a painting. Seeing her for the third time in all the places that we've been going was starting to raise my suspicions but I tried my hardest to ignore it and enjoy being here with Harry. I kept my eye on her however, as we walked through the Renaissance exhibit. She never turned to look at us, which made me think it was just a coincidence that she was here, but my gut told me otherwise.

I ignored that feeling, not wanting to get anxious in a public place because I can't stand making a scene, especially when I'm still not one hundred percent sure of this person's motives. It's just that after the incident with James my anxiety has increased and I find myself getting nauseous in anxious situations now. I watched her back as she left the exhibit, again not once looking over at me and Harry but I had a feeling she knew we were here.

"What are you looking at babe?" Harry asked when he noticed me staring at the exit door. I spun my head around to meet his worried eyes, only now being this close to him did I notice the bags underneath his eyes. Was he not sleeping well?

"What? Yeah I'm fine." I smiled, kissing his neck and hugging myself to him. "I'm just getting tired, is all." I admitted truthfully. I was getting tired but I didn't want to leave if Harry still wanted to stay.