The devastating and heart wrenching story of Yellow, takes you through the journey and relationship of an addict, and a woman who views the world through rose colored glasses. Throughout the story of Yellow, you will see how the struggles, the disap...
Harry stares around the second bedroom of my apartment that ended up turning into my art room. I didn't do it intentionally and it's more for my storage of art rather than a place I do art. I can't really focus in here, it's smaller than my own bedroom and has no window.
The only color comes from my own pieces of work that are leaned against every wall or laid on the floor stacked on a bunch of other pieces.
I only have a few pieces of my own art work hung in my house. The first is one in my living room that I did of the New York City skyline. It's one of my biggest ones so I hung it on the empty wall behind my couch.
I look over at Harry, his eyes glued on a specific piece of work. It's one I'm more insecure about. I had used it for my final project my senior year of high school and it's the one that got me noticed by my professor and basically into this school all together.
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"That's good." He says, pointing at it as he looks over at me. I grin and shrug my shoulders as I slowly walk to stand beside him, staring down at the piece that weighs down on my heart.
"Thank you, I did it senior year." I explain, glancing up at him. His eyes trace over the piece multiple times before he turns to me.
"Why is it in here and not hung up?" He asks after a moment. I scrunch my nose and shake my head, his eyebrows furrowing.
"Kind of tough to look at." I say shortly, turning around and grabbing the container of paints and the canvases for us to use. "Ready?" I ask, he looks over at me and nods, following me back out to the living room.
"There's no brushes. . ." Harry points out once we've finally gotten set up, our sleeves rolled up to our elbows. I grin over at him as I nod.
"That's the point, you've never finger painted?" I question, he stares back at me and shakes his head causing me to frown. "There's no limits." I tell him with a grin.
I start placing my colors on my canvas by little dots, starting with green and a bit of white first, going for a sunflower field. The paint is cold against my finger tips, a smile tugging at my lips.
This was always my favorite form of painting because while there's no limit to any art, finger painting brings back nostalgia and makes everything ten times more fun.
I glance over at Harry, seeing him using a dark purple and swirling it on the canvas. His face is focused, a crease between his narrowed eyebrows and the tip of his tongue poked out in concentration. I let out a laugh at how adorable he looks, Harry glancing over at me.
"Are you laughing at me?" He questions with furrowed eyebrows, his tone is much more different than I expected. It's playful. I've never heard him talk like that.
"You look so concentrated." I grin, watching his thin lips tightly form into the smallest smile I've probably ever seen, but it's something. I shake my head with a smile and continue to work on my own painting, Harry doing the same.
I share glances between Harry and the tv that plays How the Grinch Stole Christmas. I simply can't get over how sweet Harry looks, innocently sitting with the canvas between his open and outstretched legs with purple paint on his hand.
—
"Yours is better than mine." Harry mumbles, watching as I reach the halfway mark of my canvas with the yellow sunflowers, making sure to add texture to all of them.
"I like yours." I laugh, glancing over at him and to his painting that he's finished. It's a singular flower with purple petals and a green stem with two little leaves and a smiley face on the middle of the flower. "It's cute."
"That's not what I was going for." He mumbles. He starts messing with the blue paint I have spread on my paper plate and before I know it, it's all over his right hand.
He teasingly moves his hand at me causing me to lean back and out of his reach, a gasp escaping my lips when his hand lands right on the white part of my canvas. He pulls away, his large hand print being left on the canvas.
"You ass!" I laugh, staring at his handprint on the right side of the canvas where I planned to fill with more flowers but instead, I grin over at him, taking the blue paint and spreading it on my left hand, copying his actions.
A very small grin tugs his lips as he stares down at the canvas that now has our handprints on it. I smile at the size difference between our hands before turning to Harry.
"It's beautiful isn't it?" I ask, he nods his head, that small grin still sort of visible on his lips before I feel his hand swipe across my cheek causing me to gasp. "Harry!" I shout, laughing as he looks at me with a fake shocked expression.
"It slipped, I didn't mean to." He explains, watching me as I stand on my knees leaning forward and pressing my fingers to his jaw and swiping it all across to the corner of his mouth.
"Oops." I laugh, and for the first time, Harry laughs to. Maybe it's just a chuckle, but he makes some other noise than a shout, falling onto his back and bringing me with him, my non painted hand landing beside his shoulder, catching my weight as I lean over him.
Harry stares up at me, the tiniest smile on his lips as he reaches up with his clean hand and pushes my hair behind my ear, a smile spreading across my lips before I push myself away and stand up fully, Harry doing to the same.
I sit patiently on my couch, hearing the bathroom sink shut off before Harry comes walking back out, his face and hands bare of any paint.
"I should go." He speaks causing me to frown, glancing out through the sliding door to see that the snow has indeed stopped now. I only nod and follow him to the door.
"You're okay?" I ask, leaning on the door as I stare up at him standing in the hall. He simply just nods, running his fingers through his hair.
"Yeah. Th— Thank you." His words are forced and he doesn't do a good job of making it obvious that he's not used to thanking people, especially for whatever happened tonight.
"Drive safe." I tell him, he glides his tongue over his bottom lip before nodding his head again.
"I will."
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Happy update! Holy shit I spent an hour trying to get back into my account today and my stories still aren't loading. At least I can still read and write!
