Lights. Camera. PDA. (HS // au)

If I looked inside your brain

ktamayo22 Thanks for reading and liking LCPDA =]

Savannah

I enforce an ecstatic smile on my face as Harry and I finish kissing. The shooting has ended for today and I was packing our stuff to head home when Harry just came by and pulled me close to him, a huge grin plastered on his face as he quietly told me to act along because everyone was praising our couple and how cute we are.

So, I had to kiss him. I didn't want to, but I had to. Hard to believe that I'm the same Savannah who used to fantasize about kissing Harry Styles all day every day, right? Trust me, it's hard for me to accept this fact, too. The truth is, I've been kinda mad at him lately because all we do is fight. We constantly argue over things that are completely meaningless and I swear I make a mental note not to fight again. But, it's like I can't help but fight with him over petty issues.

"Get a room!" Sam yells, winking at me as Harry and I walk out. I wonder what she thinks of this, considering that she knows we're pretending to be together.

From the moment we entered the studio till the minute we stepped in the apartment, I had been smiling like a maniac because today the paparazzi were legit crazy to get photos of us. The moving in together and Harry handling me as I limped in the studio when my toe got injured and then the date a couple nights back have really fueled in our image. I don't think I have ever read so many articles about anything as there are on Harry and I.

I press my palms to my cheeks and apply pressure there. "My cheeks hurt from all that stupid smiling."

"Tell me about it." Harry says, rolling his eyes. "My dimples might have just gotten deeper."

I chuckle and lean back against the couch, closing my eyes and steadying my breathing. There's some shuffling as Harry moves around the place, his boots making a sort of a clinking sound. I almost doze off to sleep when he suddenly says, "What the hell?"

I rub my eyes and turn around to look at him. He's standing in the far end of the living room, near the washing area with his back towards me. "What happened?" I ask him.

"You did the laundry last time, didn't you?" He asks, his back still facing me.

I frown. "Yeah, I did.. You were busy with learning the script so I did it."

He finally turns around and my mouth drops open in shock; he's holding a white button-up which has red stains all over it in one hand and a red panty in the other hand.

Oh. Shit.

I swallow hard as I get up and slowly walk up to him. His stance is hard like his clenched jaw as he watches me sternly. I tuck a strand of loose hair behind my ear and nod at the panty. "That's mine." I say and mentally slap myself.

"No shit, Sherlock." He retorts.

I scowl at him and snatch the panty from his hand, feeling embarrassed. He extends the shirt and asks, "Have you never done laundry before?"

I roll my eyes. "That is the stupidest question I have ever heard. Of course, I have!"

"It doesn't seem that way."

"I didn't know my panty was in there. I thought there were only white."

"Savannah," he begins to speak in a viciously slow tone. "Are you telling me that you didn't see a red panty in a bundle full of white clothes?"