this suit is important
a societal reset tbh
✩︎
HANA
"Wake the fuck up!" I yell, running out of patience with how long Harry's taking to wake up. I'd already woken him up with a blowjob but he just fell right back to sleep whilst I was brushing my teeth in the much-too-fancy bathroom, and I'm now considering resorting to throwing a glass of ice-cold water over him. "Harry! Harry Edward Styles!"
"Fuck off," he gripes, narrowing his eyes exhaustedly as they crack open slightly before he sighs and turns back onto this stomach like he usually sleeps.
"We have a wedding to go to, you need to get ready. You look like a mess, baby!" I call as I test the soft fabric of the dress Anne had so kindly bought for me - I tried it on after dinner yesterday and was pleasantly surprised that it fit perfectly. Maybe a little tight around the chest area, not that Harry complained much about that when I showed him.
He had been utterly awestruck, smoothing his hands over the fabric and I had watched as tears formed in his eyes, making me roll my own - I don't think I've ever met anyone who cries as much or as easily as Harry, but it's very cute when he bursts into tears over the littlest, unimportant things.
"Fuck off!" he repeats, shouting at me this time, which I purse my lips unimpressedly, carrying the dress into the main room and hanging it on top of the bathroom door. With my foot, I kick the bed enough the nudge Harry, who grumpily turns to look at me, his face set in a deep frown.
I tilt my head, raising my eyebrows in irritation. His barely open eyes instantly focus on my fingers gripping the hem of his shirt and pulling it over my head, my chest bare and quickly becoming the centre of his attention, though he still doesn't move a muscle. If any of this manages work, that's great, but a part of me was hoping he would remain in bed so I could throw water at him.
His face seemed to perk up in interest when I pull a black bra from one of the drawers, simple lace and not bought specifically to be sexy, but it seems to do the trick with Harry, and he's shifting his hips subtly against the mattress beneath him within a minute. He holds his bottom lip between his teeth, watching me very intently as I slide his boxers down my legs carefully, replacing them with a matching pair of pants.
"Do I look alright?" I ask, glancing in the full-length mirror hung on the wall and studying every aspect of my reflection, especially the negative.
"Let's just say I'm definitely up now, thank you for that," he states with another wide yawn, finally dragging himself out of bed and towards me where he holds eye contact through the mirror as he presses a kiss to my shoulder. He can still sense the uncertainty in my expression, his hands taking hold of my hips and spinning me to face him quickly, "you look stunning. All I can think about is ripping this off you tonight. Making you feel good. I'll make you feel so good," he mumbles, burying his face into my neck as he wraps one arm around my waist and spins me around in the air slightly. "I love you. You're perfect."
"Love you, but you need to get dressed," I pinch his bare skin as I walk past, disappearing into the bathroom and plugging in my straighteners whilst he gets ready.
I'm halfway through straightening and lightly curling my hair and the ends when the door creaks a little, my eyes shifting over to see Harry leant against the doorway, dressed in the suit Anne had bought. He looks really good, fuck. Cream-coloured jacket with matching trousers, pristine white shoes and a light blue shirt that perfectly compliments the fabric of my dress. His shirt is unbuttoned, the top of his butterfly tattoo is easily visible, and he's wearing the cross necklace - he'd asked to borrow it last night.
"How'd I look, Cherry?" he asks, his tone almost smug; he knows he's hot as fuck and he likes it.
"Holy fuck, you look so hot," my words are nearly a whisper as I rush forward and grab the lapels of his jacket, unable to believe he pulled this off so well.
His cheeks flush at the compliment, shaking his head dismissively, "finish doing your hair, we've got about an hour."
"Do I need to curl your hair?"
"No—"
"Looking a little flat today."
"Leave me alone."
"Maybe I'll straighten it."
"No, thank you."
"Out, then," I smile, staring in the mirror and trying not to ruin my hair, smiling as he comes near me and I lightly kick at him, repeating when he still doesn't leave. "Go on, out."
"Wow, I see," he mumbles with a frown, turning to leave finally, "just wanted to get you off before the wedding."
"No, we're on a tight schedule!" I call firmly as I hear him flop down onto the bed with a tired sigh, images of his head between my legs so early and on such a stressful day flashing through my mind, making me consider it. I stay strong, however, refusing to give in to the temptation.
"You're tighter!"
"Hilarious! Do your hair! Get some food!"
"You're bossy today," he observes as he joins me in the bathroom once again and runs his hands under cold water for a few moments, running his fingers through his hair effortlessly. He stands up straight, his hair in perfect place, and I stare at him, quite offended. "What? Do you not like my hair?"
"You just ran water through it once and it's perfect, how?"
"It's just how it is," he shrugs carelessly, leaning in to kiss my neck once before he removes the straighteners from my hand, retaining eye contact with my reflection as he continues with my hair; brushing each section gently, running the heat over them two or three times and twisting it slightly at the end. Once again, just like braiding my hair, he's surprisingly good at it, slipping his hands underneath my hair and puffing it out a little, resting his touch on my shoulders and his chin on the top of my head. "You look stunning, Cherry."
"Thank you, so do you," I smile happily, turning my attention onto the array of makeup scattered across the counter.
"You don't need that stuff, Han," Harry interrupts my curiosity, stood once again by the doorway.
"I wasn't gonna do too much," I remark quietly, contemplating on how heavy to go on the whole makeup thing, especially since I never wear makeup on a day-to-day basis as I don't find it particularly comfortable and it's unnecessary to me. Although I don't apply it every day, it means that my makeup skills for special days such as this one are greatly insufficient; I can't do winged eyeliner if I tried and my resources are rather limited.
"Just your eyelashes, okay? You don't need anything else, you don't need anything, but if it makes you feel better..." he trails off, rummaging through the messy bag to pull out mascara, of which I carefully apply a few layers. Harry sits unsuspectingly on the toilet whilst he waits for me and I secretly consider putting mascara on his own eyelashes, though they're already naturally unfairly long.
He must have sensed my gaze as he flickers his eyes to mine, frowning confusedly.
"What?"
"Nothing. Just thinking how great it'd be if you showed up with makeup on," I chuckle quietly as he comes up behind me, grasping my chin in one hand and easily forcing my head straight, my eyes staring straight into themselves through the shiny mirror.
"What's that shit called? Highlighter?" he implores, beginning to search for it.
"Yeah," I spin in his hold, previously pressed against his front, and his hand wraps around my waist, dipping me slightly to one side as he finally finds it. His hands drift to my hips and lifts me onto the one free space on the counter.
"Can you do it?"
I nod in response, taking a brush and the shimmery compact powder in the little tub and dusting it across his cheekbones lightly, not enough to overstate and make it too obvious, but definitely enough to be easily visible, especially when he shifts and the light hits his skin.
"How long do we have?"
"Forty minutes?" he takes a guess, allowing me to jump down from the counter and return from the main room with a light blue nail polish that seemed to perfectly match his t-shirt and my dress, and is also what I had on my nails.
"Can I?"
"Go ahead," he offers his hand, my own a little shaky as I carefully paint each nail, ensuring he won't smudge anything as I spend ten minutes until it's completely dry reassuring him about today and trying to soothe his obvious nerves. "Is it too much?" he asks with a frown as he studies his reflection, my knee slipped between his legs as I turn awkwardly and rest my cheek on his shoulder, remaining on the uncomfortable counter.
"Do you like it?"
"Yeah, but—"
"Do you like the makeup?"
He pauses for a second, "yes."
"Do you like the nails?"
"Yes," he answers a little more confidently.
"Do you think you look good?"
He hesitates slightly before his mouth breaks out into a small, genuine smile, "yes."
"Then it's definitely not too much. You look beautiful, and really hot," I assure him, still hating how he thought so little of himself at times.
"As much as I like you like this," he chuckles, switching the subject to my outfit - or lack of it, currently, "it's for my eyes only, so go put your dress on, Cherrybaby."
"Alright, I'm going," I smile widely, trying to contain my excitement for the wedding - and life in general, my life with Harry. I don't think I'd ever been happier than I am in this very moment.
Usually, when I feel incredibly happy and I stop to think about it, I get this sinking feeling in my stomach like the contentment won't last long at all, but this time... I just feel happy.
Careful of my minimal makeup and soft, curled hair, I slip the dress over my smooth skin, the fabric silky and light. Harry joins me a moment later, trailing his fingertips along my upper arm.
As his touch reaches my shoulder, goosebumps form across my skin, and he takes the zip between his fingers. Gently holding each side up and zipping the dress up, he brushes my hair out of the way as he reaches the top. He has a small smile gracing his face as he grasps the necklace he had bought me for Christmas. A simple gold chain with little stars dotted across it, hung comfortably around my neck as he gathers my hair and holds it over my shoulder, fastening the clip and allowing my hair to return to its normal position.
He shifts to face me, fingertips tracing my cheekbones softly and gently sweeping loose strands of hair from my face, "you're so beautiful, Cherry. I'm so, so in love with you."
"Don't cry on me," I tease, seeing the way his eyes already begin to shine under the warm light above us. "I love you," I smile, wrapping my arms around his neck and resting my cheek against his hard chest as his hands come to the back of my head to pull me closer.
"We should go before I cry," he laughs lightly, clearing his throat and biting his lip nervously as he pulls open the drawer of his nightstand, returning to me with his hands behind his back and a shy smile playing on his lips. "One more thing, put your hands out and close your eyes," he requests, still appearing rather anxious as I follow his orders, a light object weighing them down a moment later. "Open."
Resting on my open palms, there's a small bag, baby pink and not too heavy. Instinctively, I smile widely and meet his eyes, reaching one hand inside and pulling out a little black box which holds a bracelet, gold to match my necklace and covered in various charms; a butterfly, a cherry, 'H' and what appears to be empty spaces for more in the future. Each pendant is delicate and simple, and tears immediately sting my eyes.
"Harry, this is beautiful, I..." I shake my head in awe, unable to tear my eyes away from it, turning it over again and again in my palm and inspecting each charm.
"Do you like it? I—I was gonna wait for our anniversary but I just couldn't," he exhales a shaky breath of amusement and nerves, "do you like it? If you don't like the gold, I can get it changed, or if you don't like the charms—"
"Harry, I adore it."
"—'cause I can get more or whatever you want."
"I love it, I don't want it any different, I love you."
"Are you sure?" he inquires again, his eyebrows furrowed in worry.
"Yes," I nod with a small laugh, cautiously wiping beneath my eyes and trying not to smudge the mascara. "Can you put it on for me?" I ask, smiling as he instantly takes it from my palm and wraps it around my wrist, securing it and ensuring it fits right.
"Okay, I'm actually about to cry, so we should really go," he urges me, clutching my hand and pressing a kiss to my lips before tugging me towards the door and down the hallway.
"You ready?" I ask as the numbers of our floor level slowly tick down.
"Ready as I'll ever be."
✩︎
they make me soft
btw the necklace is something like this
and the bracelet is like this but only a cherry, butterfly and the letter h as the charms :)
#boom