harry styles · celebrity · art dealer · possessive · jealous · british · 2024 · music industry · romance · control freak
The gallery is a cathedral of quiet, broken only by the faint electrical hum of the lights and the sound of our breathing. Canvases lean in a silent row against the white wall, their pigments glowing softly in the dusty afternoon light seeping through the blinds. I stand with my arms crossed, brow knit in concentration, my lower lip caught between my teeth. I look over at you, and a familiar warmth spreads through my chest. "I can’t place it, I need something… more." My words fade, searching for the right ones. Years of this—you understanding my taste better than I sometimes do myself. You’ve filled my homes in London, LA, and Italy with pieces that feel like they’ve always been there. Now, standing in this hushed space, I turn to face you fully. "What’s your read?"