Collide // Harry Styles

Chapter 1. Eighteen

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                              "I'd stand in the shadows of your heart

                              And tell you I'm not afraid of your dark."

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Chapter 1. Eighteen

Ava's POV.

       Changes. It happens to everyone. Either they've learned new things, or they've learned too much. It's funny how day by day, nothing seems to change. But when you look back, everything turns out different. Like a fast roadrunner that went by and everything turns into a blur. You may think it's them, but sometimes it's simply us. Cause we're all just kids who grew up way too fast. Unbelievable isn't it? And just as the caterpillar thought the time had stopped ticking, it became a butterfly.

I'm eighteen now. And here I am standing in front of the tall, glass mirror; staring at my own reflection. Though I couldn't see myself, I see this girl in a red, shimmering dress, its front shaped into a sort of v- shape and had soft layers of cloth cascading down my legs, ending right below my knee. My feet was covered with a kiss red, low heeled, ankle shoes, and for addition, I wore black, long gloves on my hands. The entire outfit was elegant, but me? I don't think so.

"I can't do this, Blaire." I sigh, shaking my head.

"Oh please, we've gone on and on about this all morning. Stop being so stubborn and let's get you to hair and makeup already." She pulls my wrist, leading me in her bathroom.

It was furnished with white, glossy tiles that made a 'click' noise with each step I took. She placed me on a chair that was in front of her huge mirror, and undid my hair from its messy bun. The long counter in front of me was layered with fine marble, in the color of cream. I stayed silent at the moment, watching her every move as she brushed my hair and parting it in the middle.

She took ahold of her curling wand, wrapping small parts of my hair around it. Seconds later, she lets it go and repeats the same thing with the other sections of my hair. I fiddle my fingers with my dress, feeling anxious about the ball that we're going to. My best friend pleaded me to go with her again and again, and it was always hard for me to say no to someone. So here I am now, forcing myself to go and get it over with. This wasn't really my thing, I never went to parties that much. I don't find it that amusing like the others but this might just change my mind.

Minutes later, she finishes and I glance up at the mirror, looking at myself. The way that she made soft, smooth curls on my blonde locks was mesmerizing. She pulls out her makeup bag, taking some products out of it and placing them on the counter. I wasn't that girl who's happiness was makeup, or the one that looks like a cake face so I just go for a more natural type of look.

She adds some light foundation on the brush and applies it onto my forehead, cheeks, nose, and other necessary parts of my face. When she finishes, she puts some concealer right under my eyes and uses her finger to even it out. My eyelids were brushed with a nude color of eyeshadow and some black eyeliner. She adds mascara on my top and bottom eyelashes, then a light shade of pink blush on, and finishes it off with a bright, red lipgloss.

"Wow." Those words left her mouth as she looks at the mirror, staring at her finished product.

"I look so... different. Good different, however. It's wonderful, thank you. But I'm not sure if I can pull this off tonight, I might do something embarrassing and be carried out of the room by some big, scary men." My fingers softly caress my face as I spoke.