TBS Imagines

Straight or Curly? (Thomas)💜

I looked in the mirror, beaming at my reflection. This was one time in the many rare times I was happy with what I saw. And it was only one minor detail: my hair.

"Love? What ARE you doing?" Thomas asked. I'd blown by him, running, into the bathroom. Did I also mention that Thomas was my boyfriend of two years? Yeah.

Turning to him, as blushed at his expression,which was both looking for information but also enjoying my excitement, his eyebrows pulled together and his eyes searching but his grin lighting up his face. "Nothing," I responded sheepishly, hands behind my back.

It wasn't that I was full of myself. I hated what I saw 99.999% of the time when I caught glances of myself in the mirror. That's why when I saw something I liked, for any reason, it was like this crazy awesome new thing. An amazing discovery. Not like a girl admiring herself, but a philosopher admiring a profound thought.

My boyfriend's expression changed, his arms crossed and an eyebrow raising. "What is it this time?" He asked, knowing the expression too well it seemed.

For a second I stalled, but eventually my excitement got the better of me. "I... I straightened my hair!" I squealed excitedly.

He tilted his head, his arms falling at his sides. "I noticed," he followed up, smirking. He leaned against the door way, crossing his ankles and arms. Again.

His repetitive habits weren't my focus though. I hovered between rushing to him and lookin back at the mirror, my hands moving around my spastically. "Look! It's so manageable and straight and not frizzy or wavy of ugly or-" I began to rant.

Thomas immediately cut me off with a scowl. Except, it was the jerking movement that really made me quiet. He sprung onto his feet, both on the ground, hands at his side and every muscle tensed. I jumped. He seemed to realize that he was looking angry and he relaxed. "Thomas?" I asked tentatively.

He took wide strides and grabbed my face, smashing his lips to mine. "Don't EVER call ANYTHING on you ugly. I personally LOVE your... Hermione hair. It's a really good look for you. I fell in love with no-makeup-Hermione-haired-jeans-and-t-shirts Y/n. Not anything or anyone else. Don't talk crap about the girl I love," he begged softly.

I stood there, quietly. Then I kissed him. "You're so frigging sweet," I whispered.

Thomas smiled, his hand rising to touch my face, his thumb caressing my cheek. "It's because I love you," he said.

My grin was so wide it hurt but I attempted to glare. "Shut up you cheesy ass hole." I retorted heatedly. It was more embarrassment than anger, and he knew.

Taking a second to roll his eyes, he chuckled. "Come on. Let's go show off your straight hair that you're so proud of," he indicated goofily.

Following his lead, I rolled my eyes. "But the press- you know I hate when they-"

"I can show you off, Love," he reminded me. "You signed up for this."

I sighed. "I did, didn't I?" I asked.

He bit his lip. "Yes. You did."

We smiled and shared another kiss as he pulled me outside to do whatever he had planned. This was going to be fun, no matter how my hair looked.

Straight....

Or curly.