39 // That's Very...Feminine

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The next morning, I woke up with a pounding headache. I place my hand over my forehead, feeling it was cold and clammy. I groan as my body feels like I spent the whole night doing a hardcore weight loss workout.

"You alright, love?" Harry asks, emerging from the en suite of my bedroom, completely shirtless wearing only a pair of high-waisted brown trousers.

"Yeah, but my head is killing me," I say groggily, gripping a fistful of the hair on the side of my head.

"Well, to be fair, you did drink 3 and a half piña coladas last night," Harry says, chuckling.

"That's true," I laugh, my eyes shut.

Harry shuffled around the room and I squint my eyes open to see what he was doing. He had made his way over to my bedroom window, clenching the drapes in his fists and pulling them close.

"God bless you," I say, finally able to pry my eyes open now that the blinding light was gone.

Harry chuckles as he makes his way over to where his suitcase full of clothes sat. He pulls out a striped button-down shirt and a lavender sweater with a penguin on it.

"You should get some rest," he advises, slipping his arms through the sleeves of the button down.

"And what will you do while I sleep?" I question, eyeing him.

"I'll find something," he says, shrugging, "Maybe go on Twitter. Haven't been on there in a while."

"Oh please," I say jokingly, "We both know you won't go on social media unless you have to."

"Well, you know they say. Try something new every day."

"I will go take some painkillers and then we can go to the salon if you'd like," I say, beginning to get up off my bed.

Harry practically runs over to my bedside, standing in front of me and making it nearly impossible to stand up. Slightly annoyed, I sit back down on the edge of the bed.

"Or," he says, smirking, "you could stay here and rest."

"But today's Sunday," I say arguably, "the salon will be the least busy today because a lot of the people around here are Mormon."

He chuckles. "I thought that was Utah?"

"Utah's our neighboring state," I remind him.

"Fair enough," he gives me a small nod, shrugging his shoulders the slightest bit. "But back on topic...if you're not feeling well enough to go today, we can always go another day. And even if we don't get the chance to go this time, that's okay. Not getting my nails done won't kill me. Hopefully."

"Okay, Harry." I laugh at his stubbornness. "But if you will be kind enough to move now, I'm going to go get something to get rid of the tiny person in my skull that's stabbing my brain."

"You know what," he says sweetly, still not moving out of my way to stand up, "you stay here, and I will go get it for you. Just water to drink, right?"

"Harry you don't have to do that," I argue, frowning. "I can perfectly manage to get a pill on my own."

"I know you're not disabled," he rolls his eyes, "just let me do this for you. Please."

It was my turn to roll my eyes, as well as shift my body so I was now laying down on my bed on my back.

"Thank you. I'd walk through fire for you," he says, a playful smirk tugging on his lips.

"Don't you dare..." I warn, squinting my eyes.

But of course, he continues. "Just let me adore you."

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