Darcy // h.s

21: Date and Disguises

   "Hold still!" Harry commanded as he accidentally smeared red lipstick on my cheek.

  "Stop! Harry, this isn't going to work!" I squealed, covering my hands in front of my face.

  "Come on, we're going to be late! I made reservations!"

  "I'm going to look like a freaking clown."

  "You'll be a pretty clown! Now, come on. Let go."

  "No. I am not letting go."

  "Then we can't go out."

  "But why do I have to-"

  "Stop asking questions! Now, let go. For me?" Harry begged. Through a crack in my fingers I could see him pouting, and in one hand he held the cherry red lipstick that he bought from a cheap dollar store down the road.

  Giving in, I took my hands off of my face and Harry smiled in satisfaction. I knew that I had been defeated, but I'd rather lose him to a stupid argument over red lipstick than lose him, which I almost had did a week ago. Thinking that mere thought caused me to shudder, but it went by unnoticed by Harry (thankfully).

  "Why can't I help with your disguise, again?" I asked for the third time. We were prepping ourselves for doing on a disguise date, mostly in celebration that he had finally been able to get up and walk around and start his physical therapy, even though he dreaded it more than a cat taking a bath.

  "Because I'm taking you out so I get to have a little fun. Eyes closed, please?" Harry said, dabbing my eyeshadow brush into a bright pink color that my aunt got me when I was nine and makeup was only worn for when I played pretend.

  The reason we were wearing disguises was obvious. Paul still hadn't come up with a good reason for me to stay with he boys to present to their management. The boys had all explained how their management was painstakingly harsh, and that they shouldn't know what really happened to Harry or they'd have a fit and remove me from the picture entirely. We still had another three days to come up with a plan, but in the meantime Harry and I figured we could have a bit of fun, away from the boys (who I'd gotten to know a bit more personally).

  After Harry nearly poked my eye out with eye shadow, we moved on to wardrobe. He was already wearing a fake moustache, wig, a hat and remained unrecognized. To top it off he was wearing a rather ugly trench coat that went down to his knees, and all of his many tattoos were concealed.

  Harry had me bring any of the donated clothes that I hadn't worn to the hospital, and now they sat in a big heap in the corner of the room. When a nurse came in to tell us we were being too loud, her eyes immediately stopped on the heaping pile of clothes but she didn't say a word about it.

  "Okay. What about... this shirt with... this skirt?" Harry said, yanking a blue top and an itchy plaid school girl skirt that I had removed once I tried it on. The two hardly matched, but then again, who would recognize me? Nobody. And I think I owed it to Harry to let him have his little fun, what with him getting shot only a week ago.

  "Fine, fine. I'll be back." I said, heading to Harry's private bathroom. He smiled cheekily and waved before I locked the door, stripping out of my clothes and into the rather uncomfortable ones he had picked out for me. I wasn't going to complain, I kept telling myself, and when I came back out Harry laughed at me.

  "Hey! You were the one who picked it out!" I said defensively, crossing my arms over my chest. He bit his lip and I could see him sucking in his cheeks at attempting not to laugh, but I had to admit, I looked pretty darn unattractive.