Underneath //H.S. AU

nine.

"Why do I always find you sleeping?"

For what seems like the fifth time in a few days, Aubrey is waking me up. I roll over in my bed and feel slightly disoriented. As I peer over at the window, I see that it's now pitch black outside. I guess that bikini shoot really took it all out of me.

"Come on get up we have to get you ready for that date!" Oh wow. I completely forgot that I was going to be meeting Harry tonight.

That's surely a sentence I never thought I would ever be forming either.

"Aubrey, it's not anything fancy. He just told me to meet him at his place," I fill her in on the details of what he said down to what time I'm supposed to be there and him telling me that he's sending a car here to pick me up.

"So you're saying that this is more like a dignified booty call?"

I jump out of bed on cue, automatically feeling uncomfortable at her choice of wording. Was that actually what this was? I'm so stupid, it had to have been. Why else would he ask me to meet him so late at his place?

"Shit, you're right. Forget it, I'm not going," I declare, brushing my hair out of its bedhead style. She immediately grabs the comb out of my hand and makes a point of throwing it on the floor. She huffs.

"Are you kidding me? That's all the more reason to go. Come on Noelle, when was the last time that you've gotten steadily laid? You've been so uptight lately," she reminds me. I want to pull the perfectly curled hair out of her scalp but I resist. Even though she put it harshly, I know that she's not wrong. I've been extra stressed with school and the job and with this newfound anxiety about my mother. I think maybe I'm overdue for a phone call with her.

As I glance over to Aubrey's pleading eyes, I sigh in defeat. "I'm dressing myself," I hold up a finger and point it towards her in order to appear more authoritative. If I let her get anywhere near my closet, I know she's going to dress me in the sexiest pair of lingerie I own with just a trench coat over myself.

She claps her hands together a few times, overjoyed and squeals. "I'll get the curling iron!"

I roll my eyes at her enthusiasm but secretly thank her for pushing me on this one. Most of the time I can't stand her insane ideas but I'm starting to turn over a new leaf. Even though she may be selfish at times, she still looks out for me when she can. And for that I'm grateful, after all, nobody else that I know would leave sunshine-y picturesque California and follow me to dreary London. With my silent gratitude still in the back of my brain, I scour my closet for an outfit. What exactly does one wear to a, what did Aubrey call it? Dignified booty call?

I debate on actually wearing the only attractive looking lingerie piece that I own. It's a detailed red lace bodysuit that is entirely opened in the back and is completely see through. The only downfall being that it offers no additional breast cups so it leaves me flat-chested. It's not something that I've ever been self conscious about before but somehow with the though of Harry potentially seeing me exposed like this, it bothers me a little.

I shake the image of myself wearing the onesie and decide against putting it on. Instead, I opt for a camisole-type baby doll dress that has mesh like material. It's black and has flowers on the two sides of my chest, acting as pasties to cover my nipples so that my breasts aren't completely revealed. I struggle to find my gold Jimmy Choos that I was able to cop from our "business woman" photoshoot last month. They are slowly becoming my favorite pair of pumps.

After an hour of prodding and poking from Aubrey waving my hair and painting my face, I'm finally ready to leave. She's so giddy that I'm actually going through with this that she doesn't even comment on how out of my comfort zone it is to be walking outside in my current attire.