Petal [h.s.]

Chapter 96

"Hmm?" I asked, grabbing a glass and pouring it with red wine after seeing that Harry already had one. I turned around to see him, leaning against the counter to take a sip.

"How about you... cut my hair?" He asked with one eyebrow up and my jaw nearly dropped, "Are you serious?! You're finally going to let me give you a haircut?!"

He snickered, crossing his arms in front of his chest, "You know, we've been together almost a year. Maybe it's time to trust you with the locks."

"You're so dramatic." I sighed and Harry pressed his lips together as he glared at me, "This is your only chance, Vi. One snip too many and I'm never letting you touch my hair ever again."

"Right, like you haven't seen me cut literally everyone's hair in the past year." I rolled my eyes, "Ian and Louis haven't visited a proper hairdresser since meeting me. Imagine how much money they've saved!"

"Mhm, mhm." Harry hummed dismissively, "I'll be the judge of that."

Harry was weirdly weird about his hair. I had suggested cutting it about a billion times but he always refused and went on some rant about his curls that I stopped listening to months ago.

Soon enough, he was sitting in the chair as I had a look of concentration on my face. I held the scissors and the comb, intently staring at the work I was doing as I carefully cut a few inches of Harry's chestnut hair. He hadn't let it grow out that long anymore ever since coming out of Clarendale's.

The shorter hair did give him a more mature look, even though I missed holding the longer locks in my hands on... certain occasions. Harry sat stiff as a statue as I ran my fingers through his damp hair, clearly nervous about the work I was doing. He tended to move his head away from my touch constantly while I rolled my eyes, "Harry, you big baby, just sit still!"

He briskly turned around, and I was about to snap at him for doing a manoeuvre like that while I was holding scissors, but I shut up once he shot me the dark glare, "What did you just call me?!"

I instantly knew I was on thin ice as I shot him an angelic little smile, "I called you my baby."

It was clear he didn't believe a syllable that rolled of my tongue, and he harshly looked at me for another second before turning around again. I let out a little sigh of relief, always forgetting how sensitive Harry was about his younger age. I had turned 25 not too long ago while he was still 23. In February, he'd turn 24 and for Harry, that was the biggest deal to once again be a little closer in age to me. He hated that he wasn't as old as I was.

Calling him my baby, softened him up like nothing else. It was a trick I had made use of in the past when he was ready to explode out of anger, usually due to something happening at work. We didn't often talk about the gang work and I knew Harry preferred keeping that stuff private from his life with me. The Sunday meetings at the mansion had turned into a task we both dreaded as we very much preferred to snuggle on the couch with our cats instead of go Waltzing in the foyer.

But it was a responsibility and we were there. Every week. The contact with Gabriel had definitely never gotten 'good' anymore. At least not with me. I found it hard to forgive and forget, but in no way blamed Harry for searching contact with him again. Gabriel was the closest thing he had to a parent, so I fully understood where he was coming from to want a relationship with him. It just didn't mean that I had to as well.

"All done." I sighed after another ten minutes. I had never cut someone's hair with this much detail but Harry was definitely my most difficult customer. He snatched the mirror from the table, critically looking at his own reflection with a frown.

"It's short." He stated and I kept myself from rolling my eyes, "That tends to happen when you cut your hair."

He gave me a look through the mirror that signalled me he was done with my attitude, and I shot him another one of those sweet smiles. He wouldn't hesitate to punish me later tonight, and I already knew that it was going to be heavy. Friday nights always sort of turned into sex parties for us. I didn't have to get up early the next day, so we could really let loose and fuck ourselves stupid into the early hours of the morning.