Art student!harry au. my fics just get longer and longer. sorry. here's 19.3k words. smut included. :) tumblr: harryforvogue
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Inspiration usually floated to Harry at the most inconvenient of times. He could be sat in the midst of a family reunion and the brightest spark of inspiration would descend on his head and he would have to shove his hands under his thighs to keep them from twitching. He could be at class learning about the uses of electron configuration and he'd imagine the most amazing picture possible in his artistic mind and despite the lingering stares he received from his classmates, he'd shuffle through his bag for colored pens and begin sketching on his pad. The rainbow beamed over his head as he concentrated on the artwork, tongue protruding from the corner of his mouth.
If there was anything he despised when working on art—or anything pertaining to the word itself—it was deadlines. Assignments that included deadlines. He could suffice with judgement because his artwork was hardly mediocre but the pressure of a ticking time bomb of a clock? He could live without it.
The assignment was the finale. He had slaved over his passion for the past four lengthy years and the timely end had finally arrived. The art work would be recorded and displayed in his portfolio, rendering it as his greatest achievement in university, beneficial when in front of a company. He had to give a solid part of his soul for this assignment.
A painting of a stranger on their natural form. The assignment was distributed verbally and he had been too busy scrawling the professor's words down to raise his hand for any questions he had.
His eyes blinked down at the notes he'd gathered.
Canvas painting
A stranger of the opposite sex from university in their natural form (no distant relatives)
A paragraph explicitly explaining the art work.
Three weeks, due at 10:30am sharp.
Extensive use of both warm and cool colors, primary and secondary only.
Not allowed to converse with other student about this assignment/swap ideas.
He sat in his dorm room, moonlight hitting his sketch pad perfectly with a pencil perched in his hand. It was a smooth canvas for him to behind carving out the essentials of his masterpiece yet he couldn't move. It was humiliating considering his prior experience and creating such beautiful pieces.
Painting of a stranger in their natural form? Was this a nude drawing? Watercolors? Was he allowed to search online for inspiration since his head had drawn a blank?
Who would he ask? He couldn't remember the last time he'd attempted to make a friend—besides his roommate of course, who was snoring across the room. Harry was painfully awkward, and the more he played it out in his mind of him walking up to a girl and asking, "Can I paint you? Perhaps you should strip too. Promise I won't peek." He groaned inwardly, glancing back down at the messy writing, itching to erase the "stranger" part. It was impossible and creepy. Possibly even perverted.
He wasn't the extrovert every other college person was, even as a senior. He spent all his time at this damned place hoping he'd slip by unnoticed. The purpose of his being here was to learn art shit and be ignored as much as possible. How could he do that when he was forced to go out and make friends with people? He wasn't a fucking child.
Harry didn't have friends. He barely had acquaintances and teachers did not count. He wasn't supposed to exist.
Exasperated and eyelids growing heavier by the second, he tore a paper off from the pad and bunched it into a ball, chucking it at his roommate's face. He smirked to himself when it landed square in his mouth and a mumbled gibberish came from that side of the room along with a heavy breathe. His roommate spat the paper out, turning his head to Harry incredulously. "What the fuck man?"
