Let's Hurt Tonight

36

Amelia

"So I was thinking..." Harry says to me while we eat lunch at his house.

I glance at him, raising my eyebrows. 

"Uh oh," I joke. 

Harry cracks a smile, his dimples just barely indenting as he does. 

"So I'm - uh - doing sort of a documentary for my album, like a behind the scenes of making it," Harry explains, somewhat nervously. He stumbles over his words a bit and seems to have a slight issue getting them out. "and I was thinking about possibly filming part of it either today or tomorrow. Sometime before you leave if you'd like to come with me..." 

I take a sip of the water in front of me. I didn't know he was making a documentary. I knew he wanted to do something extra for his album besides the music itself, but he never went into detail about what and I never felt like it was my place to ask. I try to be as invasive as little as possible and just let him come to me about certain things when he's ready.

"I'll go with you," I tell him, matter-a-factly. 

"You don't even know what it is," Harry says. 

"I don't need to know what it is to know I'll go with you," I answer, although I probably shouldn't sign up for something without actually knowing what it entails. What if Harry wants to go skydiving or something like that? As much as I like Harry, I don't know if I'd be able to get over my fear of heights for him. "What is it?" I ask out of curiosity, causing Harry to laugh. 

"Well...it's - uh - something personal I've been wanting to do for a while. It's something to symbolize I'm not in One Direction right now, I guess..." he explains. 

My eyes flicker from his face to his hair that hangs in his eyes. His curls are more like waves from how long his locks actually are. 

I know immediately upon looking at him that he's talking about cutting his hair. He mentioned it to me briefly a while ago when he was questioning if I'd still like him when he's 'bald'. 

"You're cutting your hair off," I say. 

I put down my fork, feeling full from the meal Harry had made for us. I make a mental note to learn how to cook better so I can prepare us something, rather than Harry doing all the work. I like how hard he tries for me but I also want to reciprocate it. 

"I was torn between cutting a little off or a couple inches, but I think I'm going to donate it. Obviously that means cutting off a lot..." Harry says. 

He fiddles with the rings on his fingers, something he does when he's anxious. His facial expression also suggests that's he's worried for what I'll say. Does he think I won't like him if he has short hair? I know he mentioned that when he told me about wanting to cut his hair but I didn't think he was actually serious. I thought he was just being dramatic.

"Harry, I don't care about your hair," I say, but I realize that didn't sound how I wanted it to. "I mean, I don't care if you have long hair or short. I like you because of you, not because of how long your hair is." 

Harry sighs and subconsciously runs a hand through his hair, something he probably does maybe 50 times a day. By the end of the day it can grow a bit greasy from him touching it so often. It doesn't really bother me, but it's just something I've noticed. 

"It's been such a staple for me. It was always about 'the looks' in One Direction and I felt very...pressured. I was known as the 'guy with the hair' from day one. I guess I"m just scared about...about changing that," Harry tells me. 

I smile sadly and avert my eyes briefly before meeting his again. The green is amplified from the sunlight beaming through the windows in his kitchen, the golden light casting a pretty glow on his already bright eyes.