Oooooh but I think FDY and Harry with #21 would be cute, too! Either of the two! Or both?? -FLA
Not having a job was tedious.
Sometimes, I wished I’d never quit. I’d be sat in Harry’s apartment, bored out of my damn mind, and I’d wish I’d just stuck it out. I would wish that I had just started looking for something new whilst keeping my job there, because not working was painfully dull.
I’d resorted to colouring.
I’d routed through his flat to try find some blank paper, and eventually found myself laying on wooden floor with a cushion beneath my boobs, Moggy sat beside me as I scribbled onto the paper and tried to make something that looked at least half decent.
I was failing miserably.
“What do you think?” I asked Moggy, presenting the drawing I’d done of a donkey stood next to a library. “I don’t think it makes much sense.”
She meowed kindly, a delicate little squeal that always made me feel so endeared even though she genuinely was the most miserable animal I had ever come across in my life.
I began colouring the donkey in, opting to making him purple for some reason, wondering why I’d made the donkey smile so much.
“This just keeps getting worse.” I spoke. “Like… this is terrible, but also… I’m kind of invested now, y’know? Like… I can’t just give up on the donkey now! It’s too late for that.”
So I carried on scribbling away, kind of struggling to stay inside the lines like an absolute child, but it had kept me entertained for about an hour. An hour. An hour spent drawing a wonky building and a purple donkey.
When I head Harry opening his front door, I panicked, cursing away to myself, lifting up to my knees, shoving the drawing into my pocket.
“Hey.” He grinned, closing the door behind him. “What’s that?”
“Nothing.” I gawped, wide eyed, and Moggy ran away from me, almost like she wasn’t going to have my back, running to his side and bashing her head against his leg.
“What’re you hiding from me?” He smirked.
“Yes you are! You just shoved something into your pocket. What the fuck are you up to?”
“I didn’t because I don’t even have pockets.”
“Ren… there’s paper still poking out of the pocket in your jeans.”
He marched towards me, his grin growing even more as I screamed, attempting to run but I didn’t get far, his arms soon wrapping around my waist and pulling me into his frame. I squealed and kicked and protested, feeling his smile against my cheek as he held me with one arm, reaching his other hand down to yank the paper from my pocket.
He was absurdly strong.
He detached from me quickly once the drawing was in his possession, running from and jumping up onto the bed, then holding out my masterpiece as I remained down on the ground, sulking.
“Holy shit.” He sniggered after a few moments of staring at it in silence.
“What the fuck is that?” He held it out, pointing.
“It’s… It’s a donkey.”
“Why is it purple?”
“I’m… not entirely sure.”
He turned it back round to view it one more time, before jumping back off the bed, wandering over to the wall beside his front door.
“This is the best thing I’ve ever seen. I’m hanging it up.”
“What? Harry, no!”
“It’s a masterpiece, Ren. We could sell this on for thousands. Millions.”
“Harry, don’t be a dick!”
He took a small painting off his wall, the pin that had been holding it up now perfect for him as he pierced the paper at the very top, letting my drawing dangle proudly beside his door.
He stood back, hands on his hips, admiring it with a dopey smile on his face. I moved to stand beside him, still sulking to myself.
“Harry,” I groaned. “I know you really want to hang it on the wall, but…”
“But what?” He cried. “Aren’t you proud of it?”
“Um… No. No it’s terrible.”
“I like it.”
“Can you stop taking the piss out of me and just take it down?” I huffed, wandering over so I could collapse onto the sofa.
“Just let me keep it up for one night.” He looked over his shoulder to me. “Just one.”
Harry had this certain smile he did to get what he wanted, the kind of wide grin that mirrored perfectly the smile he possessed as a young boy. I’d noted it immediately as soon as his parents got out baby photos over Christmas.
I surrendered, rolling my eyes but nodding, finally managing to laugh as Harry celebrated my defeat, and went back to proudly gazing at my drawing.