Fine Line (+Extras)

update on faye's mental health

A little update on Faye and Harry because it's been a minute!

(warning: mention of depression, anxiety, and medication)

***

Harry watches Faye poke her earrings through her ears, tightening the stoppers behind. "You never wear earrings with me," he grumbles, playing with the string of his sweatpants. "Why not?"

She glances at him through the mirror. He's sitting on the bed, his back against the headboard, one leg propped up against the mattress. "Well, you never take me anywhere fancy. Besides, it's not for an occasion, I just don't want the holes to close. I doubt I'd get them redone if I were to let them close. You know I hate pain."

"You seem to forget that I took you and your entire family to dinner last week." He scratches his jaw. "And it hurt my pockets."

She smiles and finishes with her earrings, climbing back towards him on the bed. If he's upset, he doesn't show it, dropping his leg to let her rest her head on his lap. He's wearing a black sweater and black sweatpants, his signature. "You were the one dying to meet my parents."

He gently combs his fingers through her hair and presses his lips together, a look of genuine love in his eyes. Her bangs have grown out since the quarantine and now they can easily be tucked behind her ears. As he does, he gently touches the silver stud. "I was. I'm glad I met them. Should I get my ears pierced? We could match, although I prefer gold or black over silver."

"Yes." Faye takes his hand and lays it on her cheek, puffing out her lips. She's swept some light brown on her eyes and even put little fake freckles across the bridge of her nose. They don't have any plans for this Sunday afternoon, and he'd come over early in the morning after scheduling a few meetings with clients. It's getting colder outside and the more the temperature drops, the more he wants to be snuggled against her. "And they loved you."

Harry smiles. "They always love me."

"You're too confident."

"I'm just happy our families love each other. It's difficult to meet up with people for the first time, however I have always enjoyed a challenge, unlike someone else."

"It's called anxiety."

He laughs. "I know. I know it's hard."

"Yeah," she says, pressing her face into his sweater. "You're lucky you don't have it."

He doesn't really know what to say after that, simply combing his fingers through her straight hair. It's fading again, but Faye's made no effort to fix it.

"You should dye it lavender," Harry says, picking up three strands, beginning to braid them. "You'd look so good. Or a nice lilac color."

She shakes her head. "I'm already really pale. The pink makes me look like Edward Cullen and anything lighter will make me Casper the ghost."

"Go get a tan then."

"I've never had a tan."

"I mean, the fake tanning thing. Make it seem like you actually have friends and go to socialize."

She growls, "You're lucky I only let you make those jokes."

He laughs again, finishing off the braid and letting it sit to the side as he picks up three more strands. Her hair is so silky between his fingers, soft just like her. Her eyes flutter close, craning her neck a bit like a cat once you begin scratching it's jaw. He runs his nails against her throat until she laughs.

"What do you want to do today?" he asks, making the braid a little tighter. He's practiced on her so many times, he feels pretty confident with his braiding skills. Her little cousins always ask to have their hair braided whenever she's babysitting them, so Harry takes one cousin and Faye takes the other. She has a very chatty family, so it's a wonder how she turned out the way she did: soft spoken, emotional, and quiet.