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  Harry's long and quick strides mixed with the rush hour of New York, makes it impossible to keep up with him. I try not to bump into anyone as I rush after him, wondering how he's casually strolling down the sidewalk. It's like people are making way for him or some shit.

  I finally catch up to him, his eyes rolling dramatically as I stay beside him. Probably too close for either of us but the sidewalk is so crowded there's nowhere else to go.

  "What did I just say, Clover?" He snaps down to me. I roll my eyes this time, glancing up at him while also trying to stay out of the way.

  "Why are you getting so upset?" I question. He doesn't say anything and continues walking smoothly. "You're not a project, you just seem different to me." I explain. At this, he stops walking completely but we've somehow made it just out of Times Square where it's much less crowded.

  "Let me see your drawing, then." He snaps. My eyes widen slightly, just now understanding what he meant. "If I'm not a project to you." He shrugs this time, staring at me knowingly.

  "You knew I was drawing you?" I ask, staring up at him. He dryly laughs and shakes his head at me, my body shivering from the cold, small snow flakes dissolving on my skin as we stand a few feet apart.

  "No shit." He replies coldly. "Now let me see it." He demands. I breathe out, a lot of guilt tearing my stomach apart as my eyes avert to anywhere but him. "Look at me."

  "It's at my apartment." I speak, my eyes flickering to his. He nods his head, looking down at me, his dark eyes raking every inch of my body and face.

  "Lead the way then." He sneers. I sigh, my apartment is the complete opposite way and at least a fifteen minute walk from here. But Harry seems to want to see it that badly.

  I don't say anything else and neither does he, but we walk side by side back into Times Square and the sea of people running around from place to place. It's even busier than normal since the Holidays are coming up.

  "Jesus Christ if I knew it was this far I would've driven." Harry grumbles irritably as we finally reach the front of my apartment building. I don't say anything and lead him inside towards the elevator.

"Why didn't you say anything if you knew I was drawing you?" I ask, the two of us stood in the elevator on opposite sides. He just shrugs his shoulders, keeping his eyes down at his shoes.

The elevator dings and the doors glide open, revealing the hallway that holds my apartment just down the left side. Harry follows me out and stops, watching me intently as I unlock my door, allowing both of us inside my bare apartment.

"I'm not going to turn it in anyways." I tell him, flipping the lights on. My sketch book is sat on the island counter top surrounded with all of my pencils, pens and everything else you can imagine. "Here." I mumble, finding his page and sliding it to him.

I watch intently as his gorgeous eyes scan over the page multiple times. The orbs move fast and flicker around when he finds something new to examine.

His waist is level with the counter top, his hands placed backwards on the edge of the granite counter top, his shoulders slouched as his head hung low with his rosy lips slightly parted.

I nervously lean against the counter, my arms crossed over my chest as I watch him. I don't know what I expect him to say or do, but nonetheless I'm nervous. Usually I don't show my art to many people outside of my class, mostly because a lot of people don't understand why it's so beautiful. So this is kind of a big step for me in a way.

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