Change

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I stop myself in front of a mirror in the mall, my lips releasing a sigh. I go and walk into the store, the clothes nice and clean. I grab a few simple sundresses and try them on, deciding to change my look for the better. Harry gives me respect, might as well treat myself with the same.

My eyes fall to the bandage around my arm, my hand subconsciously covering it. It's ugly and it felt like I was being burned from the inside out.

When I finally decide on a few dresses, I take them up front and pay for them. As I walk around the mall, I feel myself being looked at weird and now more than ever, my confidence seems to be deteriorating from my father. He's making me feel small and horrible, all because I ruined his one night stand.

I jolt when I feel a hand grab my arm, my eyes widening and looking up. But Harry's green eyes look into mine trying to gage my feelings.

"Hey, you alright?" he asks, my mind clouded. His worry grows and he presses is other hand to my forehead, trying to talk to me but it feels like everything is echoed. I feel myself getting warmer and he walks me to the side, sitting me on a bench. He rushes and gets something, my throat emitting a cough.

"Claire, stay with me," he says, holding out a bottle of water. He guides it to my lips and helps me drink, his fingers brushing my hair off my neck and to the side.

"You okay?" he asks, looking at me closely. I nod and he grabs the bag from my hand sets it down, looking at me to make sure I don't pass out.

"I came to get my hair cut. Saw you and thought you were sick," he explains, my hand cupping his neck.

"I-I need to go," I say, but he leans up, whispering in my ear.

"Just come to my haircut and I'll take you home. Stay with me," he whispers, my head turning.

Since a few days ago when the burn occurred, I have stayed with him in. We haven't had sex for he's been trying to make sure I'm comfortable at all times. I don't feel like myself and I feel so shy now since my father unleashed his anger on me in a physically abusive way.

I grab my bag and he holds my hand, his hand tight as we walk to the barber. I'm seated beside him and he gets started on his haircut, but I widen my eyes as the barber cuts off the entire ponytail. Harry smiles and continues getting it styled, the shorter back and longer top making him look mature in the sense that he's even more attractive. Anything Harry does will make him look good.

When he's done, Harry gets up and pays. I walk over to him, his head turning and smiling over at me. I lift my hand and brush through his hair, his dimples prominent.

"You look so good," I grin, his arm wrapping around me. He pulls me closer, kissing my cheek.

We walk out and he walks around with me, his arm around my shoulders as we walk. We pass a group of girls and one of them yells, Harry continuing to walk.

"Harry, what the actual fuck?!" she yells, my body tugged into him as he attempts to distract himself from the girl.

"What could you possibly want?" Harry calls out, my eyes looking over at her. She's plastered in make-up, wearing much more revealing clothes than me. And that says a lot.

"You moved on?! We're on a break!" she yells, my eyebrows frowning.

"Break-up," he grits. "I've moved on."

She rolls her eyes and walks over to us, my eyes glaring at her. I move out of Harry's arms and he looks worried and mad at the same time.

"Who is this bitch?!" the girl continues, my hands moving up and shoving her.

"Watch who you call bitch, fucking slut."

Her friends all gasp and I lift an eyebrow, smirking at the reactions. "Harry's mine. Get over it. He moved on 'cause clearly there is nothing here but a rude girl with a shit personality. Get over the fucking break-up and move on."

She is fuming mad and comes at me, my eyes rolling when she opens her mouth to yell, but I'm met with a slap to the face. My jaw drops, the pain barely a sting.

She smirks and I shake my head, kicking her shin and punching her right in the cheek. She falls and her friends crowd around her, Harry lifting me and pulling me away.

"Hope all the guys at the strip club want a bruised dancer!" I yell, her eyes wide as her split lips part.

Harry pulls me away and he grabs my cheeks, his eyes looking into mine. "No way did you just do that," he says, seriousness in his voice.

"I-I don't...something came over me. She was being rude," I mumble, his hands letting go and running his fingers through his short hair.

"You didn't....shit, you punched her, Claire. I can't believe..." he trails, my hand grabbing his.

"She hit you. I'll hit her for you," I say, his eyes meeting mine. I smile and he just shakes his head before revealing his smile, his arms wrapping around my shoulders. I hug him back and he kisses my hair.

"How'd you know it was the same ex?" he asks, my hands feeling his back.

"She had that stripper look," I say, making him laugh. He gives me a squeeze before letting me go, his head leaning down. I'm met with a soft kiss and he pulls away, guiding me out of the mall.

"Can we, um, can we surf?" I ask, his head turning to look at me.

"You want to surf? Really?" he asks, my head nodding.

"Sure," he grins, helping me into his car and driving us back to his place.

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