Fine Line // H.S.

10

"And how exactly are you going to do that?" I deadpan, silently hoping he'll drop it and move on.

"I don't know, Belle. Maybe," he sighs, looking down at the white comforter while pursing his perfect heart shaped lips. "Maybe we can start with my hair!" He suggests, smiling brightly when he directs his focus back to me.

"Your hair?"

"Yeah! Changing your hair can make you look more mature, right?" He asks as if I should know.

"I guess," I shrug my shoulders.

"What do you suggest we do?"

I draw my eyebrows together and smile dryly as I ask, "We?"

"Well, yeah," he says as if I should have known that. "You're gonna help me, right?"

Shaking my head furiously, I pull my hands away and stand up from the bed, starting to pace. "Harry, just because I shaved Liam's head doesn't make me a hair dresser."

"It's not like I want a cut or anything! We can just style it differently or something," he suggests. "C'mon, please?"

I stare at him with my hands on my hips like a mother dealing with her child that won't take no for an answer. Harry clasps his hands and pouts his lip, only adding to the idea that he is in fact a child. A sigh escapes my lips as I mull it over, realizing that nothing bad can really happen if I just apply some gel to it or something.

"Fine," I say making him smile and clench his fist in victory. "But I'm only going to use some of my dad's gel in it, because I am not going to get sued by your management for ruining your biggest money maker!"

"Thank you! Thank you!" Harry jumps up and puts his hands on my hips, lifting my feet from the ground and spinning me around as he beams up at me. He presses a kiss to my cheek upon putting me back down, making my stomach leap and my heart beat a million times faster. Why am I helping him try to impress another woman?

"Okay, okay. Relax, Lover Boy. I'll be right back," I gulp, trying to play it as cool as possible while I exit the room, bare feet padding against the floor.

When I reach Dad's bathroom, I search for his hair gel in the cabinets and eventually find it, silently cheering in victory when I do. It was hidden so deep behind all of Celia's shit that I feel like I've been in here forever.

"Where do you want me?" Harry asks when I reenter my bedroom.

"The bed is fine," I tell him with a slight blush that I pray he didn't notice.

He sits back down looking pleased with himself as I make my way over. The boy sits in the middle of the large white bed with his skinny jean clad legs crossed, hands clasped in his lap as he stares at me with a smirk.

"Stop looking at me like that," I falter, opening the cap to the hair gel and throwing the plastic on the bed next to Harry. I dip my fingers in, coating them with slimy gel that smells like musk.

"Like what?" He asks, feigning offense.

"Like- never mind. I can't reach you," I point out, not at all amused with his antics. If he wants my help, he better stop making it impossible for me to focus.

Harry's smirk deepens as he juts his chin out at me. The little asshole is doing this on purpose.

"Fine," I smirk back, completely shocked at myself as I leap onto the bed and straddle his lap. "That's better," I gloat, leaning into his face a little to show off my smug expression, however it has the opposite effect seeing as he just smiles, dimples forming with his enjoyment.