Just Kidding

What Makes You Beautiful

Taylor.

"Hey Taylor," Harry popped his head up from the other side of the clearance rack. "You could try this on?" He held up a small black dress with no straps and puffy skirt bottom.

"Put it down," I giggled. He set it back on the rack and walked around towards me. "What about this?" I showed him a plain sweater with a fox on it.

"That's horrid," he bit his tongue. I looked at him seriously for a second, until he burst out laughing. I shook my head and slapped his shoulder. His laughter was contagious.

"Are you gonna be serious for a second and tell me what you think?" I held up the sweater to my chest and flattened it out. He held his hand on his chin, staring at the sweater for a long minute, until he smiled and shrugged. I huffed and threw the sweater in the basket.

"Why would I give you fashion advice?" He tried to defend himself. I shrugged and kept looking through the racks. "Oh come on, Taylor. You know you'll forgive me," he leaned on the rack and stared at me with a glint in his eye.

"I'm not mad." I shrugged. He chuckled and pushed his hair back and away from his eyes.

"Okay then. I'll see you in a bit." He turned around and started walking away.

"Where are you going?" I asked, trying not to sound like a clingy five year old. He turned around with a giant smile on his face. I rolled my eyes and put one hand on my hip.

"Nowhere. Just wanted to see if you'd stop me," he walked, practically skipped, back to me with his hands behind his back and a smile covering his face.

"You're so annoying," I couldn't help but laugh as I continued looking through the clothes. He let out a giggle and helped me look.

It's strange, we are acting like we have known each other for years. I actually value his opinion on what I wear. He actually is being himself, or what I think. I mean, if you're trying to be polite you tell someone that whatever they wear is cool or pretty, not actually give your honest opinion. And that's what he did.

"Can we move away from clearance? It's plain and there isn't anything exciting," he whined.

"Fine." I sighed. "You're pushing the basket though." I smiled innocently, silently asking him to push the basket. He smiled and grabbed the basket.

I really want to hold his hand right now. The need to show some type of attraction is killing me. I want to show him that I like him and that whatever I feel won't be because of our arrangement. I want him to like me, actually like me, not just for the cameras.

"Woah," he stopped pushing and picked up a pair of boots. They were silver and had terrible designs on them but he looked so enticed in them, I took them from him and threw them in the basket.

"Oh really?" He eyed me and then looked at the boots, then back to me. I smiled and walked forward, glancing at the racks of clothing on the sides. Harry eventually caught up and started making jokes about some of the outfits on display. I laughed at every single one of his jokes and told some of my own.

We fell silent for a few moments as we both looked for clothes. He picked out a few white shirts and black jeans. He also picked out a really ugly v-neck but I told him it would look great because the smile and the light he got in his eyes was too great a sight to crush.

"I'm gonna try to this on," I held up two dresses. He nodded and pulled out his phone. He stationed himself outside of the dressing room, looking at the men's shirts around.

I told the lady waiting inside I only had two items and she handed me a dressing card.

I slipped out of my clothes and unzipped one of the dresses. I took it off the hanger and stepped into it. It was fitting and comfortable, but looked really tight.