Tell Me The Truth -H.S. AU

35

"Listen," I hold my hand up to Harry's face to stop him from interrupting me again. "I think your house is nice, I'm just saying I think you could do better."

His mouth drops open and an amused laugh tumbles out. "That's so rude!"

We've been watching a marathon of my favorite home renovation TV show, for the last three hours at least, laughing and judging the million dollar homes, sitting in our pajamas and eating snacks.

"Okay," Harry crosses his arms over his chest and settles back into his pillow to look at me. "since you think you know better, what would you change?"

"Oooo." I sit up on the bed and look around. I tap my finger against my lips, pretending to think about what I would do, like I haven't already rearranged this place in my head a hundred times. "First of all there's no color in here, I would paint the wall behind your bed a deep green or like a grey, blue stonewash color."

I stand up off the bed and Harry raises his eyebrows, a smile on his lips as he watches me move around the room.

"The stain on the cabinets is a really pretty," I point at the dark wood lining the kitchen. "but painting them white would give the kitchen a really clean, modern look."

"I see you haven't thought about this at all." He mutters sarcastically.

"I love that your books and movies are out on display in that big bookcase, but floating shelves would get them off the ground and give you more space in that area." I gesture to the place next to his bed. "Oh," I pause and turn to face him. "your couch."

"What's wrong with my couch?!" He laughs, his eyes bright.

"Harry, it's pink." I scrunch my nose up at him.

"See, and you said there was no color in here." He points his index finger at me.

"A loveseat that looks like a Pepto-Bismol bottle threw up on it, is not what I mean." I giggle and crawl back into bed with him. "Also, you need some photos or paintings in here, the walls are bare."

"Paint me something." He says immediately.

"I'm not an artist, Harry."

"You could be." He smiles down at me when I turn my head on his chest to look at him. "You know, you're quite the interior designer. I had no idea you were interested in this stuff."

"I love this show...and I read a lot of Home Exclusives magazines." I mumble, a little embarrassed, and turn back toward the TV.

"Have you ever thought about pursuing it?" He asks quietly as his hand draws circles on my back.

"What, like as a career?" I clarify, and hear a mhm rumble in his chest under my ear. "I thought about it once, but my mom doesn't think it's a real job."

"Fuck what your mom thinks." He blurts out and I turn to look at him again, his face apologetic. "Sorry."

"I mean..." The idea of this being a new path for me has my head spinning and my tummy turning in anticipation. "I do really love it."

"Then you should go for it."

"Yeah... maybe I will." I smile at him softly and move myself up on the bed to lay my head on the pillow, next to his.

"Hey, about what I said earlier today." He's shy suddenly, and brushes my hair back from my face. "I didn't get a chance to explain myself."

"You mean the living with you comment." I giggle, and I feel color rush to my face.

"Yeah, it didn't come out how I wanted it to." He looks right into my eyes as he speaks. "I think I just meant that you are always welcome to be here, with me. I can feel your energy change whenever we walk into your house and I hate it."