There were not many ways that I could feel. My cheeks burnt with the sense of rejection and my eyes fogged over with glassy tears momentarily.
"I have to go." his voice was soft but low with sadness. The smile that was on his lips disappeared as if he had seen a ghost. His face grew pale and his eyes struggled to meet mine. All I could muster was a painful "Okay." My voice trembled and all I could do was watch him walk away from me. As he walked away, he covered his mouth with his large hands and ran his fingers through his hair, seemingly distressed.
The amount of people that had seen my scars, I could count on my hand. It wasn't a part of me that I showed off and displayed for everyone to see; it conveyed weakness and, of all people, I was not weak. I couldn't be weak. The reactions of those that had seen a darker part to me had been surprised, shocked at how a person that smiled all the time, that held their head high, could hold so many secrets. I had never had a reaction like Harry's before. He was so hurt, like I had held a knife in my hand then and there.
After I sat down, his face was all I could see, not just in my work but every time I closed my eyes, his sadness was imprinted in my eyelids, with every flicker of my eyelashes. I put my earphones back into my ears and let the music drown out all the feelings that were rising in my stomach. Then I allowed a little weakness to show. I let my lips quiver. I let a small tear run down my right cheek and then my left. It was always in that order ever since I was a child. Now I could focus that pain into making this piece my best; I would use it to my advantage.
I sat and watched the clock intensely, as if my staring would make the time move faster. It was just a few seconds until midday. I was focused on the second hand, determined to watch until it reached the Roman numeral that signified 12: XII. The soft sound of the metal door was enough to distract my eyes as I anticipated his entrance. It had been exactly an hour since the last stage of the interview had began and any emotion I had felt had been drained out of me through my photography. It was only adrenaline keeping me awake. I had no energy left inside of me.
The steady sound of his shoes, one by one approaching the table I was seated at, made me straighten up and I squinted my eyes focused at the view of the city through the glass so that I could check if my make up was in place. My lipstick had faded a little with time but it was too late now. I turned towards the direction of the shoes and gave a shy smile. But it wasn't him. Light grey blue eyes greeted me and smiled professionally.
"Hello Miss.Mathis" I smiled more convincingly and he continued, my disappointment hopefully not showing through "Mr. Malik will be judging your piece privately at a later time." I raised my eyebrow and opened my mouth to speak but couldn't think of the words to say to I let him go on. "I will be here to escort you to Mr. Styles office where the interview will commence from there". He was very strictly business like and somewhere inside of me, I hated it.
"Okay." I managed quietly, but couldn't help refrain a small smile.
Harry's office was on the other side of the building on the same floor, which I was grateful for as I had to be the one to carry around the canvas with my final piece imprinted onto it. His office was somewhat different and abstract. The total opposite of Malik's in a refreshing way. The door was fully transparent, along with the chairs and tables; everything looked delicate and beautiful.
He sat facing towards me, but his head was down in his work. It looks as though he had changed as well; he no longer wore the casual clothing that he was before and was now in a black suit, his hair gelled into a neat quiff. Peter, as I learnt his name to be, only came to the door, offered me a sympathetic smile before walking away and I didn't know whether that made me like or dislike him more. I came closer, my heels in perfect tune on the soft floor, and stood behind the chair opposite him, the canvas turned away from him.
The air was still for a while until he suddenly dropped his pen on the desk, lifting his head from his work as he smiled at me. "Take a seat". I sat down in front of him. "I know you were looking forward to seeing Mr. Malik" he paused and tried to read my facial expressions and I couldn't help but turn away and smile. The smirk he so well wore came back to him "but, I think I have a better field of work for you"
I raised my eyebrow as before. "As I said in his office, I do think you are a gorgeous face to work with, the right style, size..." his eyes traced the length of my body, slowly, as if to take in all of the information about my anatomy. I couldn't help but feel self concious, why would he want me? I tried hard not to concentrate on the way he looked at me, hungrily almost.
"I want you to work for me."