Lights, Cameras, & Harry Styles

9: Showers, Directors, & Harry Styles

-Amber-

I'd seen him walk in. He was the one that had asked what my favorite thing about Harry was. Of course I hadn't answered. Not out loud anyways. But I remembered his face; his bald head, those dark brown eyes, and the short beard... He was unforgettable. The minute I saw him walk into the steakhouse, I knew we were being watched.  I stopped acting sour towards Harry and began acting as if nothing was wrong; as if were friends, even more. What I hadn't expected was that sometime during my act...it had stopped being an act. That's why the minute we left the restaurant I returned to my usual self. I stopped getting along with Harry. The look on his face told me he hadn't seen the paparazzi. It had been real. Unlike me, he hadn't been acting. This, I'll admit, made me feel slightly bad. I should have warned him.

I hugged my pillow tightly, unable to go to sleep. I can hear Harry's soft snores from the other side of the bed. That wasn't what was keeping me up though. My thoughts were. My endless thoughts about what exactly happened tonight. I didn't know how it happened. I didn't know how it stopped being an act somewhere in between. But it had. Somehow...it had become real. It almost felt as if we were friends.

Almost.

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I woke up to the sound of a door closing and a shower running. Yawning, I prop myself up to a sitting position. I squint, glancing around the quiet room. Harry had already woken up and from obvious observations, he'd gone to take a shower. I throw my legs off the bed and stand up, stumbling over to the dresser. I dig through the drawers, searching for something cute but casual to wear. After yesterday's incident, I'm a little scared to wear anything revealing. Pulling out a pair of Adidas sweats and white tank, I decide that's cute and casual enough. I quickly strip out of my jammies and slide into my choice of clothes, standing straight to look in the mirror. God, I looked horrible. My hair was stick up at odd angles and there were dark circles beneath my eyes. Hopefully I get to stay home today. I wasn't in the mood to shower early or go out. I just wanted to curl onto the couch and watch Secret Life reruns.

I scan over the dresser for my comb, pushing aside and objects and even going to search in the drawers. My comb was nowhere to be found and my hair was still a horrid mess.  Sighing, I frown at myself in the mirror. Where on Earth had I left-

Then it hits me. I'd left in the bathroom as I was straightening my hair yesterday. I groan, throwing my head back in frustration. Shit. Harry was in the bathroom. If I wait for him to come out, he wouldn't hesitate to mention something rude about my messy bedhead. He lived for these moments. 

Giving in the only option I have, I make my way to the bathroom, gently knocking on the door.

"What do you want?!" His voice answers right away, slightly annoyed.

"I left my comb in there!" I explain, using the same tone of annoyance. There's a short pause, the only sound audible being the sound of the water hitting the floor.

"The door's open!" He says at last. "Risk it if you want!"

I roll my eyes, prying open the door and stepping inside. I thank God to find the shower curtain fully closed, his shadow barely visible through the dark green curtain. I turn to search for my comb, scanning across the sink and checking the cabinet.

Nothing.

"Looking for this?"  Harry's voice startled me. I turn around to find his hand sticking out from the side of the curtain holding my black comb. That's right. I'd left in there. 

"Yeah." I heave a sigh of relief and reach over, my fingers about the grasp the comb when... I trip over a corner of the bathmat. 

I fall forward, any attempt to keep my balance completely impossible. My body falls over the edge of the tub, the curtain coming loose and falling with me.