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"I can tell a joke!" Harry—Harriet, was pissed. Everyone around was seemed to have a decent joke packed up in their heads, delivering the lines and making it seem funny than it was supposed to but her—oh for the love of God—couldn't tell a two sentenced joke.
You gave her a subtle look of disapproval, taking a comb from the dresser and walking toward the woman who had come back to the studio dripping wet in a red oversized jacket. You settled behind her, sectioning her damp hair.
"No you cannot. You are funny, Harry, but telling jokes isn't your cup of tea. Just keep on impersonating, love."
Harry merely rolled her eyes, pouting like a child in front of the mirror with her arms crossed. "Where did you go anyway? You know it's been raining all day long and you didn't care to bring an umbrella with you?"
"I was...I thought a walk would help me clear my mind and..." but she stopped, pressing her lips together, eyes faltering from looking at your through the mirror reflection and down to her lap where her hands were now resting and fiddling.
You reached out for a dry towel, raking the comb one last time through her hair before draping the towel over her shoulders so it wouldn't wet the fresh clothes she was wearing which consisted of your shirt and shorts, "And what, love?"
The tenderness in your voice warmed her chest and tingles bloom in her stomach. Harry was not oblivious—not to you, not to these butterflies, not to this warmth in her chest, not the burning feeling of your hand on her shoulders and the eye to eye contact that seemed to enticed her every time. She knew what it all meant.
Your presence brightened her day like no other. You make her feel at ease when she wasn't feeling herself. You had always helped her with the infinite words of wisdom you seem to always carry with you. You stripped down her barrier and she didn't make an effort to retrieve them, she had let you because the impossible had happened, Hannah Harriet Hayes had developed an affection and admiration toward you more than what a friend should. More than what a good Christian girl should have.
Her religion often influenced her decisions, her beliefs, her actions and everything but not this feeling. You were her exception. And she knew you were gay, she knew you didn't preach God like she did, she knew of your religious and political beliefs and most of them weren't exactly what she approve of, nonetheless Harriet couldn't give a fuck about the differences the both of you had.
As a matter of fact, the comedian actress went for a walk in hopes that she could confess these feelings for you, that once she came back to the studio she would have suffice courage to do just that and now it wasn't exactly what was going on because a woman barged in to your dressing room and kissed you, right in front of Hannah Harriet Hayes.
Harriet was confused, she was jealous and crap...she was mad, but not at you though, she saw how you were taken aback of what just happened, barely processing enough to reciprocate. You were the first to pull, shocked etched on your face, with an almost wanting to vomit expression.
