Thirty Four

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CHLOE 

I try not to look at Harry as he comes out of the bathroom, his hair wet and hanging in his face, wearing just a hotel towel around his waist. He avoids my gaze too, and I hurry into the bathroom clutching the bag containing my new clothes and my little make-up bag, shutting the door behind me and sliding the lock just in case Harry decides to barge in.

I spend fifteen glorious minutes under the shower head, washing every inch of my body twice, including my hair. I raid the basket of toiletries and use a disposable razor to shave my legs and my underarms, and once I am finished I step out of the cubicle, wrap myself in one of the warmest and softest towels I have ever felt in my life, and stand in front of the mirror. My skin is looking golden bronze thanks to all the time I have spent outside in the sun, and my already highlighted hair has been bleached even lighter, although it is hard to tell when it is wet and plastered to my head like this. Tucking the end of my towel in so it won't fall down, I comb my hair through, flip my head upside down and blast it with a hairdryer. It doesn't take long to dry, particularly as I am scrunching it as I go to give it a few natural waves. 

Once it is dry, soft and bouncing around my shoulders again I open the carrier bag and examine my new clothes. I have stuck mainly to cheap tshirts, a pair of shorts, some leggings and some more underwear, but I also grabbed a little dress on impulse, thinking it would be a change to wear something nice tonight instead of looking my usual scruffy self. It isn't anything special - it was half price in the sale, and is probably from last season or something, but I like it. It is red with delicate white daisies all over, has a short floaty skirt and a little v-neck that would likely show a bit of cleavage, if I had anything to display (which I really don't - I'm very much on the small side). It is made of a soft, lightweight jersey material and will look nice with a cheap pair of diamante flip flops that I picked up while I was waiting for the assistant to fold all my clothes at the till. I pull it out of the bag and rip the labels off, holding it up against myself to make sure it isn't going to be too short. I pull on some clean underwear, and then yank the dress over my head, smoothing it down my body into place. The hem of the skirt sits half way down my thigh, and the neck dips low enough to tell the world I am not exactly well-endowed in the chest department. But overall it is a good fit, and it's not as though Harry will be looking at me in that way anyway. 

I pull out my make up bag and begin applying a bit of blusher to my cheeks and some mascara to my eyelashes. I search the basket of toiletries for a pair of tweezers, as my eyebrows are looking like they have seen better days, but there isn't one there so I make do with filling them in lightly with a blunt eyebrow pencil. I slick on a bit of tinted lip balm with my finger and scrutinise my reflection again.

I look healthier than I have in ages. I have lost a bit of weight, albeit unintentionally thanks to all the walking. My skin is glowing from all the fresh air and sunshine (and the hot shower) and my hair is glossy and sunkissed. I look like a different person. Smiling at myself happily, I pull the bathroom door open and head back into the bedroom where Harry is sitting on the bed in a pair of clean shorts and a new tshirt.

"I'm ready to go whenever you are," I tell him, feeling instantly self-conscious as his eyes drop to my chest, and then my legs.

"Yeah, ready now," he mutters back, not taking his eyes off my bare skin. I wonder if he is thinking I look stupid, or chubby, or out-dated. 

"Come on then, let's go." 

He picks up one of the key cards to the room and follows me out of the door, down the corridor and down the stairs to the lobby. As we emerge opposite reception I catch the blonde girl looking at us out of the corner of my eye, but Harry seems preoccupied as I hold the door for him and his eyes rake up and down my legs again. I wish he would stop doing that. I feel like he is going to take the piss out of me any minute for trying to look pretty or something.

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