Golden Hour [H.S]

Six*

(these are the outfits for harry and marigold this chapter! enjoy!!)

The gentle strains of 70s rock music drifted throughout the studio, blasting through speakers connected to Marigold's phone in an attempt to help her relax under the harsh lighting and intrusive stare of the camera lens pointed directly at her.

Despite having tons of experience with photoshoots and working in front of the camera, today bestowed a new sense of pressure upon the model who was visibly struggling to maintain composed and professional on set. Her anxiety was teetering on the edge of nervous excitement and a full-blown meltdown but that was often how some of her best work was produced. With Elio's presence at the side of the room and her comfort playlist blocking out some of the bustling chaos of the room, Marigold was confident she could use her anxious jitters to push her into proving she deserved to be modelling among the elite of the industry.

Because what better opportunity to showcase her talent than on the cover of Vogue Magazine.

The thought alone felt like a fever dream and she had to keep pinching herself to prove to herself that this was actually real. Since she was a little kid, she would beg her Mama to buy her the latest issue of the fashion magazine and she had grown up for years admiring the gorgeous models and aspiring to be just like them one day. Even after securing her first modelling gig, Vogue magazine felt like a huge ambition that would be an unachievable, far-off distant dream.

The urge to call her Dad and share the big news was almost overwhelming but she knew it would be another disappointing conversation where he refused to listen to her and push for her to become a lawyer like him instead.

So, instead, she was here with her best friend, trying not to let her anxiety ruin the excitement of such a huge moment in her career. But her anxiety wasn't the only obstacle in her way today.

Not when Harry Styles was glaring at her from the other side of the studio, sitting on a comfy chair with his feet propped up on a wooden stool he had somehow located. If his expression wasn't dripping with hatred, Marigold would acknowledge how handsome he looked in his first outfit for the shoot. The black tweed material of his perfectly tailored suit jacket and flared trousers, paired with a low-cut, black vest, perfectly complimented his tanned complexion. His typically messy curls had been tidied up and styled perfectly to emphasise the texture of his hair and Marigold felt the urge to twirl each pretty curl around her finger.

But with his dark green eyes burning right into her soul, Marigold found herself unsettled by the silent judgement seeping across the room like dark shadows waiting to pounce and smother her joy.

"Alright Marigold, the next few shots I'm gonna have you straddling the chair. Maybe lean your elbows on the backrest, or something. I'll leave it up to what you feel works best." Antonio, the photographer explained in a thick Italian accent as one of the runners positioned a chair in front of her.