Was it All an Accident? (A Harry Styles Fanfiction)

Part Thirty-Three: Thick As Thieves

(Whytnie's POV)

“Hey,” he said and kissed me before allowing me inside. “So how was shopping?”

            “A nightmare.” We both laughed. “Clarissa is the kind of girl to try on everything in the store at least twice.”

            “And not even buy anything?” I nodded.

            “She kept complaining about every little thing.” I rolled my eyes. “She wants to look her best this weekend.”

            “And, uh, what about you?” Harry asked. He was leading me into his bedroom, where he shut the door because Louis was here and he wanted some privacy.

            “Do you not like the way I dress?” I raised my eyebrow at him. Instead of answering, he kissed me again. I smiled and he pulled away.

            “You’re beautiful, no matter what you wear.”

            “Another cheesy line?” We both laughed. He laid back on the bed, but I sat at the edge. “So how was your day?”

            “Just like any other.” He smirked. “How about you?”

            “Ran into Caleb today. Now that was definitely interesting.” Harry lost his smile. “I tried to be nice and all, but he just doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.” Harry held out his arms and I settled into them. “I seriously had no idea he felt that way.” I shook my head. “Do you think I led him on? Like it’s my fault?”

            “I don’t think you need to do much of anything for a guy to like you.” I gave him a confused look. He sighed. “You’re beautiful, deny it all you want, but it’s true. All you have to do is look at a guy and he’s all yours.” I laughed. He was such a good liar. Not!

            “You’re a dork.” I sighed.

            “Hey, it’s true. Underneath all those layers, and behind those sexy librarian glasses you always wear, is a girl that any guy would die to get to know.” Now I knew he was a terrible liar.

            “Sexy librarian glasses?” I asked. We both started laughing. “You are a dork.”

            “Is that a good thing?” he asked seriously.

            “To me it is.” We both laid there for a while, until he sat up and looked at me. “What?” Was there something on my face? Great! Just my luck.

            “I was thinking…” And? Was he going to finish that thought? What felt like two hours later, he said, “… and I don’t really think you talk much about your family.” What? Um, okay? How am I supposed to know what he wants to know about them?

            “Um, my father and I are really close.” I made a weird/confused face as he took out his phone and took a picture of me. My eyes went wide. “What was that for?”

            “Instagram.” What? “And twitter.” Double what? “Don’t worry, I’ll tag you.” Come again?

            “Why?”

            “Isn’t this what couples do?” He smirked. “Post the pictures you love the most about your girlfriend.” Another what? At least he could’ve asked me to smile or something.

            My phone started vibrating. I unlocked it and checked my update. Go figure. It’s a notification telling me that I was tagged in Harry’s twitter update and instagram. Great. And then the comments started piling up. Harry quickly took my phone away before I could read any of them.

            Like I cared what they thought of me?

            Okay, I’ll admit it, maybe a little.

            “That’s my phone,” I demanded, holding out my hand.

            “You don’t want to look too into things, babe.” I glared at him until he handed over the phone. “But just remember that what they think, has nothing to do with my opinion of you.”

            “Thanks for the confidence.” I opened my phone and checked out some of the comments from the fans. A lot of negative ones, but there was a lot more positive ones. I liked those the most. “You know what?” I looked up at Harry. “This kind of reminds me of a song.” He was listening. “It’s called Thick as Thieves by The Summer Set.” He’d never heard of them, not that I thought he would’ve. So I played it, since it was on my phone. I started to sing and point at myself, “I’ll grow a mustache,” and then I pointed at him, “you’ll cut off your hair.” He laughed and then came up with his own idea.

            “I’ll be right back.” So I just patiently sat on his bed waiting for him. Patiently. Waiting. How long is this going to take? What is he even doing? Oh, right. Patiently. Waiting. How long am I supposed to just sit here “patiently waiting”?

            And then, finally, he was back. He had this mischievous smile on his face, and his arms were behind his back. I gave him a weird look.

            “What’re you hiding?” His smile got bigger.

            “These!” Then he showed me what was in his hands. In his left hand was a fake sticker mustache and in his right hand was a bald cap. What in the world was he doing with those? I looked at him funny. “Like the song?” He handed me the mustache. I kept giving him weird looks like he was going “mad”. I watched as he put on the bald cap and I couldn’t help the laughter that came from me. “What?”

            “Don’t worry, I’ll like you no matter how much hair you have.” I laughed some more, while he rolled his eyes.

            “Put on your mustache.” He helped me. Then he pulled out his phone and took a picture.

            “Another twitter and instagram update?”

            “Management would love it,” Harry said and smiled.

            “You kind of look sexy bald.” He looked at me and I winked.

            “But you need to shave your mustache.”