Burn

“So,” Harry said to Rae as she bit into her finished cupcake. She looked up at him, interested in what he was saying. They had finally finished the cupcakes and she was on her second. They were just that damn good. “How did you get into art?”

Rae thought about it, trying to think when she had picked it up. Deciding her answer she began unpeeling the other side of the cupcake wrapper. “My mom used to do it as a hobby, so whenever I saw her do it, I thought ‘I want to do that too.’ Thankfully I got the artist gene, because my dad can’t even draw a bloody stick figure. Right fucking terrible, he is.

“I got really good at it, even when I was young. My mom insisted that I was better at her because I can do good charcoal pieces, but the way she painted… she painted with the colors of the wind, that was for sure. She was brilliant, even though she didn’t do it for a living. She should have.”

Harry listened intently, which made Rae happy. It was hard to find a guy who actually listened to you sometimes. It still made her marvel that he could be such a deep listener and thinker, when on the outside you would never see that. “Well I’ve seen your work, and I think it’s phenomenal. I don’t like all the abstract stuff I see in museums, but I can appreciate the things you draw.”

Her heart squeezed. “Thank you, that’s really kind. Do you have any particular talent?”

He licked his pink lips, trying to think about it. She waited patiently for him, nibbling around the edges of the cupcake. She didn’t want to finish it just yet, knowing that if she ate it too quickly she would instantly want another one. They were like crack. “I play guitar a bit, but I’m not really that great. I suppose my talent, besides baking, is having a good memory for the things I’ve read.”

Rae nodded. “I can appreciate that. What’s your favorite book?”

Harry smiled, looking down at the table top and running his finger, creating a pattern in the flower. Rae waited patiently, wondering why his lips had curbed in such an amused smile. “The Hobbit.”

The girl giggled slightly and Harry pushed her shoulder, his cheeks tinting slightly. Rae thought the flush of color looked beautiful on him, so she said nothing about it, not wanting him to never blush again. “And why The Hobbit, though I must agree it’s brilliant?”

He shrugged, looking up at her, where she sat on the table. She was still covered in flower, though she watched the egg out of her hair in the sink. It sat in a not atop her head. “I suppose because it reminds me that you’re never too old to change you’re life and go on an adventure.”

“You want to go on adventure?”

“I’m already on one.”

Harry’s gaze was intense as he looked at her, making her go silent. Rae realized that what he meant by adventure, is that he was trying something knew by taking her out on dates, by trying to commit himself to her and not to drinking. The thought took her breath away and she watched as he rose slowly, standing in front of her.

“So I’m an adventure now?” she breathed as he stood in between her legs, only a couple inches from her face. He grinned slightly, leaning in slowly for a kiss- and then brought a cup cake to his mouth, taking a large bit out of it, leaving her heart racing for no reason. “Wow.”

Harry laughed, full cupcake in his mouth as he turned away, cracking up at her reaction. She was both amused and embarrassed, knowing how she must have looked. He had an effect on her that she herself had a difficult time comprehending. “You should have seen the look on your face. Priceless.”

Hopping of the table, Rae threw the cupcake at him, hitting him in his already dirty shirt as she marched towards the door, huffing. Harry laughed behind her before chasing her down, grabbing her by the waist and swinging her around into his chest, wrapping her in his arms. She was unresponsive, letting her arms hang. “Come on, love. Don’t pout, it was mean, but it was funny.”

“Your face is funny but I don’t make fun of you.”

“Ouch.” He kissed the top of my head, making me dizzy. It was such a random, sweet form of affection, one I had not expected from him. He seemed to realize the same thing, dropping his arms instantly and coughing. “Erm, let’s get this place cleaned up, yeah?”

I nodded, getting to work right away. “Of course. I wouldn’t want Leah to be angry with me. She seems lovely.”

As he began cleaning, Harry nodded. “Leah is wonderful. Even though I joke and say she has a bakery because she isn’t sweet enough, she is the sweetest person I know. She’s taken me in several times when I couldn’t bare staying at home. That was before I got my own place, of course.”

“So do you work because your parents don’t give you money, or do you work to work?

“Work to work. My parents don’t really pay attention to the money that I spend. I discovered that when I was younger. I tried to see how far I could push it. I bought a laptop, TV, iPod and a tablet all in one day. Didn’t notice a bloody thing.”

“Wow, feel free to come over for Christmas.”

“I’m Jewish.”

“Oh, I’m-"

“Kidding, Rae. Go easy on scrubbing that table there. You look like you’re about to put a whole through it.”

Rae turned and glared at him, for both scaring her and bossing her around about the table. He gave her a grin. She looked at what he was cleaning and pointed, “You missed a spot.”

The pair continued to clean until the kitchen was spotless. Looking at it with satisfied grins, they closed up shop and left together, covered in head to toe in flour and egg. As they walked towards Harry’s car, Rae was thankful no one was around to give them strange looks and wonder what on earth they had been doing. It was one of those awkward, unexplainable things.

Getting in Harry’s car, he opted to drive to his house because it was closer. Rae eagerly agreed, desperately wanting to wash herself off. The egg was still in her hair quite a bit, and she didn’t fancy staying in wet flour all night either. It tasted good in cake, but did not look good on her.

Pulling up to his familiar house, they got out and walked up the steps. Rae was surprisingly calm, not worried at all about going into his home. The memory of the last time she was here, being pinned by her was intimidating, but it didn’t scare her like she thought it would. Maybe she trusted him. Or maybe she was just stupid.

Inside, she smelled the scent of vanilla. Turning on the lights, he led her easily to the guest bathroom. It was large, and very simple, how she knew it would be. Harry wasn’t really the kind of person for lavish things, reminding her much of herself.

He gave her a pair of sweatpants that he hoped wouldn’t fit and a t-shirt before he left her to shower as he went to his own. After she showered quickly, enjoying the heat of the water, she got out. She had been happy to find that her underwear and bra were untainted, so she slipped them back on and then Harry’s clothes over that.

Harry’s pants loosely fit her, hanging low on her hips, but they were satisfactory. The t-shirt engulfed her entire body, making her look like she was wearing a pillow case, which was mildly amusing as she looked in the mirror. Shrugging as a sleeve un off her shoulder slightly, she walked out of the bathroom.

Upstairs, she could hear that the shower was still on. Not knowing what to do, she walked around the downstairs, admiring how clean everything was. Harry was obviously a neat freak, which she thought was absolutely adorable.

Discovering his stash of books in the living room, she sat down on the floor, picking up Catcher in the Rye and opening it to a random page. She skimmed it and blinked to find that here and there were notes scrawled in pen. As she read them, she say that it was comments that read, ‘me too’ and ‘I know how you feel.’ Flipping through the pages, she saw variations of Harry talking to the character on pages. It made her both sad and smile.

The sound of him coming down the steps and into the living area made her turn. He was dressed in a tank top and sweat pants, his curls tucked into a beanie. He looked absolutely beautiful, making Rae pause with the book open in her hands.

“What are you doing?” he asked, glancing at the book. His face became uncomfortable suddenly, and she realized that maybe he hadn’t wanted her to know that he wrote notes about the way he felt in books. She snapped it shut. “Trying to steal my books, are you?”

“No,” she said quickly, placing it back. “Just marveling at your vast collection, is all. You’ve got some of my favorites… ah, here.” She pointed to A Tale of Two Cities. “The best one yet.”

“You have been the last dream of my soul,” he quoted, smiling as he sat down on the couch, watching me. I got up from where I sat, adjusting the sweatpants slightly.

“I would have thought you would have gone for the most famous quotes of them all. It was the best of times-"

“It was the worst of times.”

Rae bit her lip, shaking her head. She just didn’t understand one thing. “Is it is, to be perfect like you?”

He laughed loudly, patting the couch next to him. She walked around the coffee table, sitting down, cross-legged. Harry faced her, leaning on the arm of the couch. They were sitting extremely close, a fact she tried to ignore. “You know I’m not perfect.”

“Do I?”

“The only thing in this world that is perfect, are children, and that’s only for a time. For that blissful age of ignorance, they are perfect because they are filled with love, happiness, and know nothing of hate.”

Rae stared at him in disbelief. It was something so wise to say that there really was no response, no comment she could make to counter or top it. Harry really was smart, and he proved that over and over again by simple comments like that. He was one of the most complex people she had ever met, and she wasn’t sure she would ever understand the way he worked at full.

“And then the child is corrupted by greed and jealousy,” Rae agreed after a time of silence, nodding her head. “And then sometimes they spend the rest of their lives trying to erase mistakes they made, making them miserable, or they’re the kind of people who seek to undermine others.

“Vengeance and retribution require a long time; it is the rule.”

Rae smiled at one of her favorite quotes from the story. “You really do remember books very well.”

“Only the books that I like.”

“You are a very, complex person, Harry Styles.”

“And you are a very difficult girl to read, Rae Bastian.”