I cupped his face ever so softly, the pad of my thumb grazing his chin as I held him close. My other hand raised my mascara gently to his eyelashes, and I carefully applied it. His eyes watered a little, but not enough to smudge anything.
It was close to 4AM, and we found ourselves experimenting with my makeup in our tiny, little room. We were both in our underwear, with my legs placed either side of him as I straddled his lap.
"What's next?" Harry mumbled.
Placing down the mascara, I adored his long, black lashes. I smiled to myself at the look at him flawlessly in my foundation, blusher, eyeliner, eyebrow pencil and mascara. Looking through my bag, I found the perfect pain to complete my canvas. Red lipstick.
"Woah," His eyes widened the second I pulled it out. He attempted to push it away, but I brought it forward. "I-I don't know if that's my colour-"
"Please," I begged, my lips pouting. "It'll look so good."
"Pink looks better," He corrected me with a sharp huff. "Trust me, Harley. That's my colour."
Still being slightly drunk, I swayed slowly back and forth as I held my red lipstick prominently in the air. "I really want to try the red."
His long lashes fluttered as he blinked slowly, his lips pursing. "Fine."
I smiled in success. "Okay, now keep still."
His plump lips bounced as I pressed the deep red makeup to his mouth, feeling his hot breath hitting my hand. Pulling back, he rubbed his lips together and gave me a stern yet loving stare.
"How do I look?" He asked out of curiosity.
"Like a woman." I murmured with a small smirk, but he raised an eyebrow.
He took a cigarette which he placed beside him, and set it alight before bringing it to his mouth. "Maybe I just want to look like a man in makeup."
The fire that ignited caused his face to glisten like a diamond. He took a drag, the inhaled smoke now pouring out of his contoured nose. I stared in awe for the longest time possible.
"You look so good," I almost moaned at the mere sight of him. "I just want to kiss you."
He teasingly puckered his crimson red lips, his nostrils flaring and his face hollowed as he attempted to look model-like. I leaned forward ever so gently, my hands running slowly through his hair as the tip of my nose touched his.
He exhaled the toxic smoke against my mouth, and with that he pulled back. "You'll ruin my face."
Coughing, I shuffled back a few inches. But soon enough he snaked his arms around my small waist, pulling me back in as our foreheads touched. He quietly asked, "Do I look pretty?"
Giggling a little, I slowly nodded. "You do."
"What about sexy?" He smirked.
I bit my lip to hide my obvious grin, and nodded again. He took the final drag of his cigarette before harshly crushing it into the ashtray beside him. He then rolled his head back, the veins in his neck pulsing as the smoke poured out of his nose and lips.
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Call Boy. (Harry Styles Fan Fiction) on holdFanfiction
Harley Thomas; an anxiously wrecked Christian who thrives on judging those who sin. Harry Styles; an emotionally wrecked Atheist who thrives on sinning.