Chapter 26 – Chloe's P.O.V.

            Surprisingly enough, out of the two days I've been safe back in Harry's arms, the voices have diminished almost completely. Every so often I'll hear a little cackle of their laughter, but for the most part they've gone away. But I'm not stupid, nor am I oblivious. They'll come back; they always do.

            But I currently didn't care about that as my head rested on Harry's chest, his fingers gently weaving through my hair as we laid in the grass to watch the stars. I never thought I'd be capable of loving someone, nor did I think someone would be compatible enough to love me. The whole idea of love just seemed far-fetched in my mind, the words never seeming evitable for someone to speak directed towards me. But Harry is different, and I realized that the first day I met him. Who else would offer an insane person to live with them? No one but the asylum and that isn't living, it's simply existing. Being cooped up in a cage like animals has a negative effect on most patients, but I've tried to hold onto that little sliver of sanity my mind still holds.

            It isn't much, but it's enough to know it's there.

            "Can I say something extremely cheesy right now?" Harry mumbled as he twirled my hair around his finger.

            "I like cheesy things," I said with a smile, a real one I haven't felt in a long time. The only time a true smile ever appears on my face is in result of Harry. He just carries this happiness with him that radiates off onto the world; all except Elizabeth.

            Harry chuckled. "Do you see all of those stars up there?"

            I nodded.

            "Each one represents the years I want to be with you."

            The line was cheesy, but the emotion behind it is what struck me. I bent my head upwards to look at him, an idiotic grin stretched on my lips. "I don't think we'll live a billion years," I teased.

            Harry smirked, kissing my nose. "Probably not, but I don't want to have to go a day without you, Chloe. Six days felt like six years."

            "No one has ever cared about me that much," I told him, "so why do you?"

            It wasn't said harshly, but Harry still frowned with it as I stared up at him with curious eyes. It was true that no one ever bothered to write me a birthday card on my birthday, or even wish me good luck when they sent me to that horrid asylum. I have too many fingers to count how many people care about me. Harry is literally the only one I can even think of. Maybe my mother cared about me, maybe she didn't, but I just don't remember her like I feel like I should. When had she left me and how?

            "Do you want me to be honest with you?" he asked and I nodded. He sat up, so I sat up cross-legged in the grass and stared at him when he turned to face me. He reached over, grabbing my hands from my lap and lacing our fingers. "I don't know why I care about you so much, Chloe. That's the truth. But you're like a magnet that keeps luring me in every time I get too far away. You're like one of those freshly baked chocolate cakes that everyone just has to have."

            "So now I'm a chocolate cake?" I asked with a chuckle.

            Harry smirked. "You're my chocolate cake, and I can assure you of one thing..." He planted a soft kiss on my lips before smiling at me. "I'm not sharing."

***

            "All right, here's the paint and the brushes. And here's one of my old t-shirts for you to wear so you don't mess up your clothes," Harry said as he tossed me the balled up material. A smirk danced on his lips. "You ready to paint this house?"

            "The inside and out?"

            "Of course not." Harry shook his head. "That's too much work for lazy people."

            I chuckled, pulling his shirt over my head as he lined the floors with old newspapers and towels. We were doing his room first, so we pushed the dresser out into the hall, along with the bookshelf and desk. The bed was a little more difficult, so we picked up the mattress first and slid it horizontally out of the room. Carrying the frame for the bed was easy. Once the room was cleared, Harry handed me a paint brush and flashed me a smile.

            "Let's see how good your art skills are, love."

            "Not very," I murmured.

            Harry chuckled, kissing my cheek. "It doesn't have to be perfect, but since you're staying in this room for me, I want you to feel comfortable, you know?"

            "Harry, that's not—"

            He held up a hand to stop me, giving me a look. "Don't back sass, Chloe. This is inevitable, okay? It's bound to happen, so just pick a color and we'll begin."

            Chewing my bottom lip, I knew arguing with him was pointless and would end up in a victory in his favor. So I stared down at the four colors; blue, green, red, and black. I frowned at the dark color, peeking up at him. "Why'd you get black?"

            Harry shrugged. "I didn't know if you were one of those people that like black. Personally, it creeps me out, but if you liked it, I'd be able to live with it."

            I smiled, shaking my head in amusement before looking back at the colors. "Can we do this blue?"

            Harry smiled. "I had a feeling you'd pick that one."

            "You sound so sure of yourself, Styles."

            "Well, Chloe Marie Williams." Harry smirked. "I know you a little better than you give me credit for."

            "Is that so?"

            "Mhmm."

            Furrowing my eyebrows thoughtfully, I formed a question in my head while Harry grabbed the can opener for the paint. "What's my favorite food?"

            Harry looked up at me, smirking. "Pancakes. If you're going to test me, you might as well make it difficult."

            I sat cross-legged on the floor in front of him, watching as he fumbled with the can in his hands. "My favorite book?"

            "The Book Thief," Harry said. "And I only know that because you finished it the other day and have been rambling on it ever since."

            My cheeks flushed. "The movie is coming out, you know..."

            Harry looked up at me with a grin. "I guess we'll have to go see it, then."

            I smiled, and Harry popped open the can. After informing me of the "proper" stroke technic so the paint dries evenly, he passed me another brush and I dipped it in the baby blue liquid. It was a soothing color, one I really enjoyed looking at as I drug the brush along his plain white walls. Blue has always been a favorite color of mine, and I have no idea why. They say lavender holds the comforting feeling, but I always find my calmness in the vibrant shades of blue.

            Harry even brought in a stereo he had in his guestroom, so he plugged in his phone and let me scroll for a song. I ended up clicking on Human by Christina Perri on accident, but I left it anyway. I didn't know many of the songs on his playlist, most likely due to my three years departed from society. However, Harry turned to look at me when the song came on. I smiled, but his grin was larger before he went back to his painting. The song soon became my favorite melody.

            Thirty minutes of nonstop music and painting, and almost three walls were finished. We hadn't gotten the ladder from the lobby yet (they were letting us borrow it), so we left the top we couldn't reach unfinished.

            "Chloe," Harry said, making me turn to see what he wanted. Right when I did so, he drug the cold, paint-covered brush across my face. It lapped over my left cheek, nose, and finally stopping at the middle of my right cheek. Harry was already laughing, but it took me a moment to realize what he had just done.

            He just started a war.

            I grinned as I grabbed my paint brush, dragging in down his forehead to his chin. Harry pursed his lips when the brush went over it, then he stared at me before we both fell into hysteric giggles. Instead of being productive and finishing the walls, we continued to paint on each other.

            "Okay, okay!" I squealed as he flicked his brush at me, splattering paint all over my face and his shirt. "Enough, child!"

            Harry laughed, dropping his brush in the can before gently grabbing my hips and pulling me to him. "You know..." He smirked as he met my gaze. "Blue really looks good on you."

            I laughed, rolling my eyes. "Gee, thanks. But I have to admit, it's not really your color."

            Harry playfully pouted. "I see how it is. I give you a compliment and you come back with an insult. How rude, Chloe. I'm obviously devastated."

            I giggled as he kissed my paint-covered nose with his paint-doused lips. We ended up sitting on the floor against the wall that hadn't managed to get painted at all. My head was on his shoulder as he played with my fingers in his lap, then he reached over and grabbed his brush. He pushed up the sleeve to his t-shirt on me, rolling it to my shoulder before he draped my arm over his thighs.

            "What are you doing?" I asked.

            Harry smiled as he lightly dipped the tip of the brush in paint before taking a ginger hold of my arm again. He didn't even pay attention to the fainted slashes that covered them, and that part made a smile creep onto my face. He truly, genuinely didn't care about the marks on my body. He cared about me.

            The paint was cold on my arm as he wrote sloppily, then with a goofy grin, he let me see what he wrote. The three, simple words, "I love you," covered my arm in baby blue paint, but the gesture meant more to me than words could afford.

            Beside his little note was a childish smiley face, a squiggle atop his head mimicking hair. "That's one fancy kid right there," I teased.

            Harry chuckled, nudging me with his shoulder. "Oh, shut it. I'm not an artist."

            I smiled, looking up to meet his gaze. "I love you."

            Harry grinned, his left dimple cratering. "I love you far more than you could ever love me."

            But before he was able to plant a kiss on my lips, the doorbell rang.

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A/N: Hiii (: So a lot of you don't want me to end (which no one ever wants a story to end - unless it's God-awful), but I also won't be doing a sequel. There is a few more chapters to this book, though, as you can tell with my fresh cliffhanger xD Love you all xx

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