"It all started with my mum. All I've ever known was my mom, my dad was never around. She was an incredible artist. I used to admire her work day and night, and one day she asked me if I wanted to learn a few art tricks. This was about at age 9. I jumped at the opportunity, craving to become the artist my mum was. Well it turns out I was quite good. My mum said it must have ran in the family. From then on I was always sketching, always drawing anything I could see, trying to replicate the object on paper. My mum said art was not just copying, but about expression. She taught me how to make my thoughts come alive through the tip of a pencil. I was able to create my whole world. As the years passed and I became a teenager, I started to become a punk. I stayed out late, got in trouble in school, and started to resent my mum. She did nothing wrong, yet I was constantly hurting her feelings and just disrespecting her. She would ask me if I wanted to paint or sketch with her like old times, and I would tell her that I was going out. I never spent any time with her. One night when I was 18 I was out late at a party. I received a phone call from my mum and I just ignored it. She called several more times and I didn't answer them, annoyed that she was pestering me so much. I stayed at a friends house that night. When I arrived home the next day there were police cars and an ambulance in front of my house. I ran over to the nearest officer stating that this was my house and asking what was wrong. He said that there had been a homocide last night amd the woman who lived in the house had been murdered. Just then had it clicked in my head. My mum was calling me the night before for my help. She needed me to protect her. And I ignored it. I ignored it and was not there to protect my mother when our house was broken into and she had been killed. It was too much for me too handle. I couldn't process it. It wasn't real to me. I became numb. I didn't even have an open funeral for my mum. I was always alone. I hated myself, damn near the point of suicide. It was all my fault that my sweet mother had been killed. If anyone, it should have been me. I'm a no good piece of shit and she was the greatest woman I've ever known"
"Don't say that Harry." Chloe interrupted. I had completely forgotten she was even there. I was more talking to myself at this point.
"Let me finish. I decided that I would honor my mum and pursue art like she wished me too. I kept it private though. It was the only thing I had of her, and I wanted to keep it to myself. I wanted to keep her to myself. That's why I freaked when you saw my art that first day we met. I wasn't ready to share it with anyone, and I still don't know if I am. However, I trust you Chloe. I want to share my past with you so you can understand just how cruel and heartless of a person I really am. I don't deserve to be happy. I don't deserve you." I look up from my lap to see Chloe with silent tears running down her face.
"You listen to me right now." She said.
"Don't you ever speak that way about yourself again. You are no monster, and you DO deserve to be happy Harry. You are a good person and I know you loved your mum very much. I will never judge you on your past, and do not blame yourself for what happenned to your mum. There was nothing you could have done to stop that from happenning. If you do not want to share your art with anyone, then don't. You deserve to keep that memory of your mother to yourself. I will never push you to share that with me. And I just want you to know, that I respect you so much more as a person for sharing that story with me. In truth, I should have never pushed you to tell me. I'm so sorry for making you re-live those tragic events." She said, scooting closer to me, wrapping her arms tightly around me, embracing me in the warmest hug I've ever felt.
I sighed. "No Chloe, I'm glad I told you. I wanted to tell you. I knew eventaully I would have to tell someone, but I've always denied it. It feels good having it off my chest, being able to vent about it." A tear escaped my eye. I didn't realize that I would get this emotional over this topic. I'm not that kind of person to show emotion, but somehow Chloe brings it out of me. I want her to know everything about me.
I hear Chloe sob, and I pull her face up to meet mine.
"I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't he crying, but I feel so terrible. Nobody should have to go through something like that, and its breaks my heart that you did. I just want to be there to comfort you." She said. Honestly, she is the sweetest girl I've ever met in my life. I wiped away her tears with my thumb, gently stoking her face. I shushed her and wrapped her in a hug, her burting her head in my chest as I cooed in her ear.
"Thank you." I whispered in her ear.
"For what?" She said, voice muffled from he head still being buried in my chest.
"For caring. I never thought anyone would ever care about me again." I said truthfully.
"I will always care about you Harry." She said rigt back, not missing a beat.
I cannot believe the informatiom Harry has just revealed to me. He has had it so rough in his life and I've just been mean to him. I will never see Harry as the same person again after hearing that. I wish there was something I could do to make him feel better, to take away his pain. Strangely enough, the last thing I want is to see Harry in pain.
We stay embraced for several minutes, mostly just enjoying each others company. We pulled away, my eyes still red. I look up at Harry and he seems, relieved. I guess he really did just need someone to tell.
"Well, that was definiately not how I expected our make up date to go" Harry said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.
"Well, that doesn't have to count." I said back to him.
"Well then, I know what we could do." Harry said seductively, scooting closer to me on the bed. He puts his hamd on my thigh, my breath hitching in my throat at the contact. He starts sliding his hand up my thigh and leans in to whisper in my ear. "MINI GOLF!" He yells in my ear.
He gets up off of me and smirks, knowing what I thought he was suggesting.
"Don't tease me then." I pout.
"Tease you with what? I was just letting you know that we were going to play mini golf." He says with that freakin cheeky smile of his on his face.
"Oh you know what I'm talking about." I say to him as I pull myself off his bed.
I stand up and he walks directly up to me, putting his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him until the distance between us was closed.
"Wait a second. Were you talking about this kid of teasing?" He innocently asks me as he leans in and plants a kiss just at the bottom of my neck. It sends shiver throughout my body. But I don't give in the easily. I decide to mess with him a little bit.
"Oh please Harry. You think that's teasing? Don't give yourself too much credit because that was nothing." I say sarcastically to him, earning a wicked smile from the curly headed boy.
"Oh really? Well, what about this?" He says as he locks his lips with mine, forcing his tongue into my mouth." He releases just as I get the groove of it, and I try not to look too desperate for his lips to be connected with mine again.
"No way." I lie to him, holding back my own giggle.
He leans down, hot breath against my neck, whispering in my ear. "Not even this." He doesn't do anything with his mouth but instead skims his over my crotch on top of my jeans, making me shake.
"Um" Is all I manage to spatter out as he continued to trace up and down the zipper line on my pants.
"That's what I thought" he says as he smirks in satisfaction, walking us back until we're laying on his bed, him on top of me.
His lips find mine once again and he doesn't waste time before inserting his tongue in my mouth. My hands find his curls and I find myself pulling myself up to the touch of his jeans, wanting to feel him. He moves his body in rythym with mine, a hard bulge starting to form in his jeans.
I break the kiss and look up at him.
"So are we not going to mini golf then?" I ask him, half joking.
"Nah, I'm way better at this than I am at minigolf anyways" he breathes as he winks at me.