I sat between Harry's legs, his arms were around my waist and we were both entirely nude like he had wanted. We were still looking through the photographs on the living room floor. We had separated all of the photographs I had taken in Ireland while with Harry. I was left with about one hundred photos, waiting to be turned into something wonderful. Harry picked up a photograph I had taken while in Ireland but before I had met him.
"This is lovely." He said gazing at the seaside snapshot.
"Yeah. That place was amazing. I had been to Ireland before and never found anything this beautiful before. I think I am going to print it in color though. THe flowers there were the most brillant shade of yellow and the grass was just so lush and soft. I wish I would've brought you there. Even the beach below that cliff was phenominal." I gushed.
"What other beautiful things did you find there?" Harry asked with a genuine curiosity.
"There were a couple of really old churches that I loved. THe ruins are amazing as well. THe people there are so...I don't know how to descibe it. They're like, full of life and happy go lucky. I can understand why my mother used to love it there." I smiled leaning into Harry's chest.
"Used to?" Harry sounded a bit concerned now.
"It was hard for her to go back after my dad just left her hanging. I always wanted to go but she was always so worried about seeing my dad. What would happen if he saw us." I smiled weakly.
"You don't know him?" Harry's voice held the sympathy written on his face.
I shrugged, "I know who he is and we've met a couple of times. I know he is married and had two sons and yeah. We talk a few times a year now."
"So how old are your brothers?" Harry inquired.
I blushed, "The older one is about twenty seven now I think. And the younger one is twenty one. I believe. I'm not sure. I don't talk to them. It's too hard."
"Wait. If your dad is married and has two sons one older and one younger, is the older one your mum's as well?" Harry asked.
I shook my head, "Nope. I was an accident. But I don't want to talk about it. I had a happy childhood without him and I never questioned anything my mother ever did and I still don't."
"If you were happy why don't you want to talk about it?" Harry seemed a little unsure of my conflicting statements.
I sighed, "Because I honestly don't know him. I don't want to form an opinion of a man that I don't rightly know what kind of man he is."
"Well, if he had an affair and didn't take on his responsibility as a father then he must not be a very good man." Harry replied sourly.
I placed my hand on his face, "Harry, don't say that. I don't know anything but what my mother told me. Like I said I've only spoken to my father a few times and I didn't really try to get to know him or his side of things. I was fourteen and angry." Harry looked upset but nodded anyway. "Do you want to walk through the vinyards?" I asked trying to get his mind off my familial problems.
"But that means I have to put pants on." Harry whined.
I stood and took his hand, pulling him up, "Come on. Let's get that blood pumping."
Harry scooped me up in his arms, "Kiss me and it will be." I laughed at his suggestive comment. I shook my head and picked up the clothes he had taken off of me.
Harry and I walked through the vinyards hand in hand. We were silent but it was alright. It was comfortable. I enjoyed just being by him. I gazed up at his pensive face. His brows furrowed and his eyes were intense as he stared beyond us, further into the vinyard. I was so confused by the difference in his face and body. His face showed an intense thought process but the way he held my hand and brushed against me was gentle and almost calming. He ran his hand through his hair lazily then turned his eyes to me.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Harry asked with a small smile plastered on his face. I just shook my head and set my gaze forward again. He bumped my elbow with his own. I flicked my eyes over to his amused, dimpled face. "Come on, what have I done?" He pressed on.
"Nothing. You're just...I like watching you." I replied feeling embarrassed by the confession.
HArry lifted his eyebrow, "You know, if you weren't an artist I think that statement would feel creepier than it does."
"Why does my profession matter?" I gazed upon him curiously.
"You see things differently. You notice the little things and take them to heart. You are trained to see detail and beauty in everything." HArry answered with a shrug.
"You should too then. By all definitions of the word artist you are one as well." I smiled trying to give him a little confidence boost. HArry smiled and kissed my temple lightly. We continued to walk in silence. Harry gripped my hand tighter and pulled me closer. I began to gently rub his knuckles with my thumb.
"Hey, are you alright?" HArry inquired stopping me. I nodded with a smile. "You are doing that thing with my knuckles again. The last time you did that you were upset." I tilted my head, questioning him with my eyes. "We were in Ireland, that last day together, I asked when I'd see you again. You got quiet and you looked so sad and you rubbed my knuckles, just like you are now."
I was taken back, "You remember that?"
Harry blushed and pushed his hair away from his face, "I remember everything about those three days."
I shook my head and sighed shakily, "Oh Jesus." I chuckled nervously and pulled Harry along the vineyard path. He stayed super quiet. I couldn't even hear him breathing anymore. I was a bit startled when he let go of my hand. I pivoted to see what he was doing. He had stopped in the middle of the path. He was looking out to the opposite side of the field. His intense, pensive face had returned. I smiled when I took in the image of him fully. His tight black jeans, boots and button down paisley shirt that he had refused to button. He ran his hand through his hair again, parting it to the other side. I lifted my camera to my eye. I snapped a few pictures. I quickly dropped my camera when he looked at me.
"Let's go over here." He stated pointing in the direction he had been gazing off to. I nodded and rejoined him.
"What's over here?" I inquired as we made our way across a few rows. He smirked a bit. I giggled when I saw that he had a little picnic set up at the end of the row, about twenty meters away. "You are so sneaky." I laughed.
"I know. I wanted it to be a surprise." Harry beamed as he pulled me toward the edge of the blanket. I shook my head as I sat down, making sure my dress covered what it was supposed to.
"When did you have the time for this?" I was still in awe as HArry sat behind me.
Harry nestled me between his legs, holding me close, like he did as we sat in the living room, "While you were taking a bath. I packed up everything but the food yesterday while I was waiting for you. I thought this would be nice."
I glanced back at him, "It's lovely."