Damaged » h. styles au

Chapter 69 - Harry

Then she shook my hands off, resting her head against my thigh, and I threw my back against the couch, kicking her sides on the floor and chuckling when she flinched, trying to dodge away from my touch, but failing, since she was between both my legs. And just maybe I was taking a bit of advantage of her since I realized her belly was quite ticklish.

“Okay. I’m done with it. It’s official now,” she declared, tucking a loose thread of my sweater pants between her fingers. “I seriously thought your brain was bigger, Hazzy, babe.”

I actually chortled at that. “Hazzy, babe? What the actual f–ck was that, Scarlett? Now, really, you’re a whole lot impatient. I was not made for braiding and it’s not that easy, okay? C’mon give me just one more chance. I’ll do it now, swear.”

Scarlett sat straight again, lifting her hands towards mine and putting her fingers over where I was holding her hair. “Okay,” she sighed once more “Okay. So, you bring the strand on the left to the middle, and then you switch hands; the one that was holding the left strand will hold the middle one, and you’ll let the left strand loose. Now you bring the right strand to the middle, and do the same thing. That’s basically it.”

I’d got stuck at the switching hand thing. Again.

She stilled for a moment, allowing me to do it properly, but soon enough her shoulders were trembling slightly with laughter, and I just lost it. It involved too much thought and God! They made it look so damn easy. It isn’t, though. Women are either extremely talented or really good liars.

“Fine. I give up.”

“I’m gonna braid your hair so you can feel how it’s made. Deal?” she turned around, kneeling in front of me and placing her arms on my legs, resting her chin over her clasped hands.

“S’not long enough, is it?” I questioned, not even bothering that she was prompting to braid my curls, because after all, it was good having her messing with my hair in any way possible, and I kind of felt a bit like a puppy or something. Her touch was soothing, anyway, so.

“I think I can make small ones, but, yeah.”

I nodded at that, picturing the scene and smiling. She did just the same, scratching her nails on the tissue beneath her hands, not digging it enough so I could feel something hurting my skin. The scratch was quite comforting, actually.

“Fine. I’ll let you. But, what about Scar, though?” she noticeably wrinkled her noise at the suggestion, burying her face deep in her hands and staying there for a while, in what I supposed was a way of thinking about it. Maybe she was actually considering it, after oh-so-many other suggestions. I was running out of those. “It quite fits, you know? Considering everything you’ve been through, and whom you are now, the reasons why you are the way you are and everything. Like, you have many scars and stuff, plus, I like it.”

When she looked up at me, she looked like almost in sheer awe, glancing carefully at me before nodding. Yes! There we go.

“You sure it’s settled? Because we really don’t have many more options.”

“Time will tell if it’s okay, but I think I can get used to it. Unless you add that child-like pleading tone you have whenever you call me by it,” I allowed myself to shoot her a dimpled grin, which she poked with one finger before standing up and patting my thigh. “Now go, move. I’m gonna make your hair look beautiful.”

I rolled my eyes at her words. “Scarlett, my hair already does look beautiful. Ladies drool over my curls, okay?”

“Oh, sweetie, you really think that’s why? How naïve of you,” when I looked at her with a questioning expression plastered to my face, she just winked, clearly giving me an once-over and smirking. What was that supposed to mean? “Seriously, do you check yourself in the mirror?” oh, okay. So I had voiced my thoughts. “Your hair is certainly not what makes ladies drool.”