I stare at my phone, scrolling through every app I have downloaded, busying myself with something to do while Harry shoots the commercial for the band's next fragrance. I can hear his voice carrying through the studio, all deep and raspy as usual. With a sigh, I put my phone away and close my eyes, deciding to listen to the soothing sound of Harry's voice instead.
Normally I don't come to any type of photo or video shoot because they take so long to finish, but after being on tour for the last three months, Harry practically begged me to come along because he couldn't stand to be away from me any longer than he had to.
And obviously I wasn't going to say no.
Eventually Harry's voice disappears and Liam starts talking instead, and as I'm listening to him tell the camera how good the new perfume smells, I feel a presence beside me that I already know is Harry. I'm about to open my eyes when I suddenly feel a mist on my face.
I snap my eyes open and look at Harry who's laughing as he holds one of the perfume bottles in his hand. "What was that for?"
Harry stops laughing long enough to shrug. "I thought it'd smell good on you." Harry leans in close to my face and sniffs before lowering his voice. "And I was right."
"Thanks, but I'm already wearing perfume," I say.
"I know, but when we were testing scents I kept thinking about what would smell good on you," Harry says before quickly looking over his shoulder and lowering his voice again. "Just don't tell the boys or the fans."
I smile. "Your secret's safe with me. So, how much more do you have to shoot?"
"Just individual photos and-" Harry starts, but stops when my head thumps the back of the couch with an exaggerated sigh. "Bored, babe?"
"Only a little," I lie. "I'd just rather spend more time with you."
Harry frowns. "I know, babe, me too." He sits next to me on the couch and takes my hand in both of his, the warmth comforting. "But after this, we'll be able to spend the next three months together. I'm sure you'll be sick of me by then."
Harry smiles and I find myself smiling too. "I'm already sick of you," I whisper with a smile, but we both know I don't mean it, so I lift my head off the back of the couch and close the small distance between us, placing a chaste kiss to his lips. When I pull back, Harry smirks before going in for another kiss that lasts a little bit longer, but not too long because someone clears their throat next to us.
"If you two are finished," Liam says, "Harry, it's your turn for photos."
"Fine," Harry huffs with a pout, kissing my lips one last time before walking back over and standing in front of the camera.
The photographer directs him onto his mark and Harry places his hands behind his back and stares into the camera as the photographer begins to snap photo after photo. But when the photographer asks Harry to smile for a few shots, it seems forced - like he's trying to get the shot so he can leave. To anyone else it may not be noticeable, but I've known Harry long enough to know the difference between a fake smile and his real smile.
And the photographer must pick up on it too because he keeps asking Harry to change up his smile, but it still looks forced each time.
"(Y/N)," the photographer suddenly says. "Would you mind standing by me for a minute?"
"Um," I hesitate when everyone's eyes fall on me. "Okay."
I get up from the couch and walk over to stand behind the photographer and Harry's eyes instantly lock with mine as a small smile plays at his lips.
Then I hear the shutter click of the camera.
"Perfect," the photographer mutters as he takes another photo. "There's your real smile."
"Real smile?" I ask curiously.
"Yeah. I saw the way he was looking at you earlier," he says, nodding his head toward the couch I was just sitting on. "He's always smiling around you."
"It's true," Harry admits, his lips tugging up a bit more at the corners and I find myself mirroring his smile.
"Don't you have a photoshoot you should be focusing on?" I ask instead. Harry laughs and I hear more shutter clicks from the camera.
"Perfect," the photographer repeats before turning around to whisper to me. "Keep him laughing."
I nod and meet Harry's eyes again, even though they haven't left mine since I got up from the couch. It still makes my heart flutter; the fact that, even in a crowded room, Harry will only keep his eyes trained on me.
"Okay." I nod, already trying to rack my brain for the dumbest jokes I can think of to make Harry laugh. "Babe, what do you call it when a dinosaur crashes his car?"
"What?" Harry asks, a slight smirk tugging at his lips like it does every time I'm about to tell him a joke.
"Tyrannosaurus Wrecks," I say and Harry laughs. I hear more shutter clicks, so I decide to keep going.
"What did the big bucket say to the little bucket? You look a little pail," I say and Harry laughs again. I can hear it echo around the studio and it sounds like music to my ears.
"What do clouds wear under their shorts? Thunderpants."
"Why did the cookie go to the hospital? Because he felt crummy."
Harry laughs once again, resting his hands on his thighs as he bends over slightly, still laughing like it's the funniest thing he's ever heard. I can't help but smile, watching the way his face lights up with laughter, his eyes crinkling at the sides and his dimples becoming dents in his cheeks. It's a sight I want to see for the rest of my life.
"Thanks, (Y/N)," the photographer says, smiling gratefully at me. "I think we got the shot." He then turns to address the whole room. "And that's a wrap!"
It doesn't even take a minute for Harry to walk over to me and wrap a hand around my waist, pulling me close. I rest my head against his chest and he places a kiss to the top of my head.
"Thanks," he says quietly, rubbing a hand slowly up and down my back.
I look back up to meet his eyes briefly before leaning up to press my lips to his. "I'm always here to help."