The rest of the day passes rather slowly. Only a handful of people came in and bought stuff, leaving Alex and me in a daze. We had finished all the cleaning, unloading, and watering of the plants this morning, like always.
Once it got closer to closing time, I told Alex to leave early and I'd lock up. I hum to myself as I'm sweeping the floor, not expecting anybody to come in when it's only ten minutes until closing time. To my surprise, the door rings, and a pair of footsteps can be heard entering my shop. I couldn't exactly see who it was from my viewpoint, but I had a feeling it was Harry.
"Laura?" His rich accent calls out for me, causing a smile to appear on my lips.
"Over here," I say, moving out from behind the stand of flowers. His green eyes meet mine, and he instantly smiles, the butterflies coming alive in my stomach, "What are you doing here?" I ask, setting down the broom and walking over to him.
"I'm doing a little project and need some flowers," Bradley says, Luckily, I know someone who owns a flower shop."
"What type of flowers do you need?"
"White roses," he replies, letting his eyes wander around the room.
I nodded my head, wondering what type of project he was doing, "Lucky for you, we have dozens of white roses. How many do you need?"
"All of them."
All of them? Why would he need all of them? I don't ask any questions as I lead him over to the roses, widening my eyes once I realise exactly how many there are. "Are you sure you need all of these?"
He nods his head, looking at me with a look in his eyes I couldn't even begin to describe. I raise my eyebrows at him as I watch him pick up as many bouquets as he can hold, leaving yet another two armfuls left. "Mind grabbing those for me?" Bradley asks. I grab them and follow Bradley, placing them in the trunk and backseat of his car, "How much will that be?"
"Don't worry about it," I said, shrugging my shoulders while waving my hand in the air.
"No seriously. Let me pay for them," he says, furrowing his eyebrows, grabbing his wallet from his back pocket. He starts to grab some money as I place my hand over his, shaking my head. He sighs in frustration and stuffs his wallet back into his pocket, "Fine. You win this time."
"I need to go lock up."
"I'll wait for you. I need your help bringing them back to my apartment," he says, smiling, leaning against his car and crossing his arms. I send him a smile before going back inside.
The shelf where the roses had been is now empty, and I make a note for myself to order some more in the morning. I grab my things and the keys to lock the door before walking back outside, locking the door behind me.
Bradley opens the passenger door for me, closing it once I get inside his car. The smell of roses fills the car and I laugh to myself, wondering how long that smell would last. With his apartment only being four blocks away, the drive there is short, and before I know it we're carrying the roses up the four flights of stairs.
"How are you going to open the door?" I laugh, taking in his armload of roses.
"Good question," he smiles, dumping the roses into my already full arms, "Hold these for me."
"You better be glad all of the thorns are cut off," I say, muffled by the multitude of flowers covering my face. He laughs as he finally gets the door open and takes back what he dumped into my arms. He leads me into his studio, placing the roses on the floor.
More white fills the already completely white room and I wonder why he didn't choose a bolder color. The room looks completely the same as when I saw it last night, with everything still neatly put away. This time, though, there is a small table beside the easel filled with different colours of paint and a cup of water, along with some paintbrushes.
"Are you painting?" I ask, walking over, and see that the canvas was painted a light green around the edges with nothing else on it.
"I was about to," Harry nods his head. I watch him as he starts scattering the roses on the ground in front of the window, making it look like the floor was made out of roses, "Sit in the middle for me. I need to see what it would look like with a model."
I do as he says and sit down in the middle, where he left a little circle, "I'm going to put some petals in your hair, okay?" He asks me and I nod my head. He starts placing the white petals in my brown hair, and I'm glad that I curled my hair this morning, making it easier for the petals to stay. I smile at how gently he was placing the petals in my hair, his sweet breath washing over me from how close he was to me.
The ground around me didn't look like a floor anymore. Instead, it looked like a sea of roses, the only color being green amongst all the white. Bradley hands me a single rose and takes a step back, observing everything. He doesn't say anything as he looks at me and the roses surrounding me, making me feel a bit self-conscious. "How does it look?"
"Beautiful," he says, staring straight into my eyes, "Do you mind if I start painting? It'll just be the roses, but I need you to stay there."
"Sure," I say, a bit uneasy at the thought of him staring at me for such a long time.
The rose in my hand becomes the centre of my attention as I fiddle with the petals, trying to remain still without making eye contact with Bradley, "You can talk to me if you want to," he chuckles, and I look up to see him sitting on a stool with the easel at an angle to where he could still see me, a paintbrush in his hand.
"Why'd you choose white roses? Why not a bolder colour?" I ask.
He hums, a smile playing on his red lips, "Because the main focus is green, and white compliments green," I nod my head, watching the way his eyes move from between me and the canvas.
"Is the way I'm sitting okay? I know you're not painting me, but I just didn't know if there was a certain way you were going to have the model sit," I was sitting the way kindergarteners are told to sit when it's show and tell, the position being the most comfortable for me.
"The way you're sitting is perfect," he says, the paintbrush in his hand making tiny strokes of white.
For some reason, watching him paint made me feel calm. His hands looked gentle as he gripped the paintbrush, moving it from the paint to the canvas. He only ever glanced at me every few minutes, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Although he was concentrating, he looked calm. It was as if he found peace in painting.
"You look so calm," I say while bringing the rose up to my nose, looking up at him from over the white petals.
Bradley looks at me, taking a deep breath once his eyes land on me. No words leave his slightly open mouth as his cheeks start to turn a shade of pink, "Could you keep the rose right there?" He clears his throat, getting up off of the stool and leaving the room. I look at the doorway, confused as to why he left. My question is answered once he walks back in with a camera, "Is it okay if I take a picture? That way I can show the model how I want them to pose."
"Go ahead," I nod my head, keeping the rose right under my nose while looking at him over the petals. He snaps a few pictures while I stare into the camera, a bit confused as to why he couldn't just tell the model how he wanted them to pose.
"Thanks," He says while placing the camera down and sitting back on the stool. The paintbrush returns to his hand as he goes back to painting, the pink still very prominent on his cheeks. Silence once again surrounds us, and I go back to messing with the rose that was in my hand. "Do you need to be anywhere anytime soon?" Bradley asks me.
"No," I shake my head, laying the rose down in my lap, "I live a very boring life."
Bradley chuckles softly, still painting the canvas in front of him, "So do I. I guess we both have that in common."
"I guess we do," I say.
We both stare at each other, neither of us breaking eye contact. Although he was twelve feet away from me, it felt like we were mere inches apart. The feelings from yesterday resurface, and this time I don't push them away. I liked the way he made me feel when he looked at me. It made me feel alive again.
Then I remembered what I told Alex and what I told myself. Being friends is okay for now. I didn't need a relationship yet, and being friends was better than a relationship. I don't want to fall in love with someone new when I'm not even sure if I still love someone else or not. Breaking another person's heart is not what I want to do, and I feel that if I fall in love with Bradley, that's what I'll do. I'll realise I'm still in love with him and leave Bradley heartbroken, and that's something that will destroy me. Knowing I hurt Bradley unintentionally and left him thinking he did something wrong.
An hour or so passes with small talk, and I feel my legs starting to become numb from sitting on the floor for so long. I don't say anything, though, because I'm enjoying watching him paint too much to want to move.
The sun behind me was starting to set, causing the white petals to come alive in a golden flame. The golden light washed over Bradley as he painted, making it look like a spotlight was shining on him. His skin glowed, and his hair once again gained a reddish hue. It felt like someone should be painting him instead of Bradley being the one to do it. The artist became the art right in front of my eyes and I didn't even have the talent to draw him.
"Pass me your camera," I say, getting an idea. He passes it to me without any questions and looks at me as I point the camera at him, "Keep painting, I say, and he does as I say, a small smile appearing on his lips as he realises what I'm doing.
Looking through the camera lens, I realised it didn't do him justice, but it was the only way to capture the moment in a memento instead of just a memory. I take a few pictures, smiling once I'm done, "There."
"Why'd you take a picture of me?" He asks.
"Because you looked beautiful, and why not capture a beautiful moment?" I reply, causing his cheeks to flush a bright red and a cheeky grin to appear on his face, "Anyways, here's your camera back. Thank you for letting me use it."
He gets up, taking the camera back from me with a smile, "You're welcome. Thank you for calling me beautiful. I've never been called that before," he says softly, causing my heart to flutter.
"You're welcome," I smile up at him.
"Do you want to go on a picnic with me tomorrow? I've been wanting to go on one for a while now but haven't had anyone to do it with," Bradley asks, still standing over me.
"I'd love to," I say almost too quickly.
"Great. I'll pick you up at eleven if that's okay."
"Eleven is great," I nod my head, "Do I need to bring anything?"
Bradley shakes his head, finally moving away from me, "Just yourself."