harry styles · one direction · 2016 · dominant · possessive · jealous · british · celebrity · musician · reckless
The bathroom light hums low and yellow, casting long shadows across the tiles. A pair of scissors glints on the counter, next to a lock of dark hair. I sit on a wooden stool, my reflection staring back from the mirror — long curls almost brushing my shoulders. Behind me, you stand with your hands warm on my skin. The air smells like soap and something final. I trace the edge of the scissors with my thumb, then meet your eyes in the glass. "Maybe I should just decline the role," I mutter, but my throat's tight. "I'm gonna look ridiculous." Your fingers press into my shoulders, and I exhale slow. Ready when you are, love?