little do you know // niall horan au

chapter 6; give me something

Harlow snored unbearably loud whenever she fell into a deep sleep.

Mona had the misfortune of accidentally falling asleep in her room last night after Harlow had been trying to convince Mona to do all the things she'd been putting off for way too long. Harlow had a history of meddling, and with Deepa's wedding date looming closer and her brother's phone calls becoming increasingly frequent, she was having a field day. Mona had probably fallen asleep after Harlow muted the television in her room and started asking the important—well, important in Harlow's books because Mona didn't really care—questions, and now, Harlow's hair was in Mona's face as they both slumbered soundly in her bed.

Mona groaned, swatting the long, wavy locks from her face. She didn't know why Harlow slept with her hair out like that, because it was always Mona who had to untangle the strands from each other with a special comb because Harlow's hair was too thick for anything else. She gingerly crawled out of the bed, hints of the beginnings of a migraine swirling in the back of her head. She didn't get to dwell too much on it, though, because as soon as she'd stepped out of the bathroom after brushing her teeth and washing her face, Harlow was standing in front of the door smiling like a fucking idiot, eyes twinkling with mischief.

"What?" Mona asked flatly, shoving past Harlow to get to her room instead. Harlow, of course, followed hot on her heels

"So," Harlow began with a dramatic clap of her hands, stopping Mona in her tracks by running to stand in front of her. Mona rolled her eyes, but somehow that made her headache worse. "I've been thinking—" she started to say until Mona interrupted with a snarky remark that went something along the lines of 'Well that's never a good thing' only to be shot a rather menacing look from her best friend. "Anyway," she said sternly, and Mona knew she meant business. "I've been thinking that we haven't been spending much time together lately. So I decided that we should have a girls' day. Like, you know, breakfast, a movie, a walk in the park, shopping. And maybe, you know," she shot Mona a sneaky wink, "some boy gossip? That's always fun!"

Mona couldn't help but huff out a laugh because she hadn't realized that this was something she'd needed for a while. She'd been so invested in school and stressing about upcoming exams that she hadn't even thought about spending time with the one person who was with her through everything. "I'd love that, Roop."

"Awwww." She stepped in to bring Mona in for a hug. "I love it when you get all sentimental and call me by my house name."

Mona rolled her eyes but hugged her back nonetheless. Her fingers, however, got caught on a tangled strand of Harlow's thick, unruly hair and she grumbled this time. "I don't know why you always sleep with your hair open," she sniped as she lead Harlow to her room and gestured for her to sit on the floor by the foot of her bed so Mona can go and retrieve the coconut oil and Harlow's brush. "You know how difficult your hair is to manage and you still take every opportunity to allow it to get all knotted up."

Harlow stifled a giggle into her wrist but Mona still heard it and shot her a look. "You know," Harlow sing-songed, her voice towards the end of her statement lifting in amusement. "You're the one that seems all knotted up. Anything you want to tell me?"

Harlow's eyes were full of mischief and Mona pursed her lips at her. She was always so difficult. Mona didn't know why they were friends. "No," Mona snarked, tossing Harlow the brush. "And even if I did I wouldn't tell you anyway. You have an even bigger mouth than Harry."

But Harlow simply giggled as Mona settled on the bed behind her, pouring a generous amount of oil—not too much for her hair to look greasy but enough to add a shine to Harlow's thick locks—into her hands and massaging it into Harlow's roots before applying it to the rest of her hair. Mona decided that her hair was definitely tangled so she ran the brush through the knots a few times before weaving the hair into a French braid that ended just to the middle of Harlow's back.