Red [h. styles]

Eight

8

Harry and Jena walked past the threshold of his apartment, full and happy.

"Alright, Jen, get changed and we'll head to the theatre."

"Could you have said that any slower?" Jena teased, "I mean, I'm not getting any younger here."

"Would... you... like... me... to... talk... like... this...?" He asked.

"I... see... no... difference..." She mocked.

"Just strip," Harry said, and Jena laughed her obnoxious laugh. She did as she was told, changing into her dark grey dress and curling her hair.

"I'm still surprised you own a curling iron," Jena said amusedly, and Harry shrugged.

"I used to have long hair, remember? Sometimes the curls wouldn't fall right and I'd have to redo them myself. Image and all that."

"I'll accept it," Jena said begrudgingly, "and I remember the long hair."

"Do you prefer long or short?" Harry asked, curling some of the back pieces Jena couldn't reach.

"Long," Jena said after a moment of thought. "I've always had a thing for long hair: playing with it, wrapping my hands in it, the likes. And your name is Harry for goodness sake, you should at least live up to it. But hey, with eyes like yours, who cares about the hair?"

"Thanks, love." Harry grabbed another piece of hair to curl. "So, would you want me to grow it out again?"

"It doesn't matter what I want," Jena said, grabbing the hair spray, "it's your hair. Do what you'd like with it. I'll support you no matter what, unless of course you shave it all off, in which case I'd have to pretend I don't know you."

Harry laughed, nodding his agreement. "That sounds fair."

Jena's phone rang, and Jena checked the caller ID. Madelyn.

"Look, Haz, I have to take this, catch up with my friend. We have twenty minutes before we have to head to the show, I'll be done by then, I promise." Jena apologized.

"Go ahead," Harry smiled, "I'm sure she misses you."

Jena smiled back at him, accepting the call. "Mads!"

"Jena! Hi!" Came the happy reply. "How are you?"

"I'm doing well! Look, can I call you back tomorrow?" Jena asked bashfully.

"Still moving in?" Madelyn asked.

"Actually, I'm not at my apartment. I fucked a guy last night and now we're hanging out." Harry blushed, overhearing her statement. She winked at him, unashamed.

"You're a promiscuous girl, aren't you?" Madelyn commented, amused at her friend's antics.

"Had to christen the new city, didn't I? But seriously, I have to go. Talk to you tomorrow?"

"Of course. Love you," Madelyn said.

"Love you too, Mads." Jena stated, hanging up. "Alright," she said, turning to Harry, "ready to go?"

"Sure," Harry said reluctantly, "just one question first. How many people have you slept with?"

"What kind of question is that?" Jena asked, though she didn't sound offended.

"I just... you're so confident when you talk about having sex with people. I just assumed you do it a lot..." Harry trailed off awkwardly, looking at her expectantly.

"And you don't?" Jena asked patiently. "I'm confident in myself and in my actions. If I'm going to embarrassed to tell people about what I've been doing, then I probably shouldn't be doing it, should I? I don't see what the issue is with having a lot of sex, it's a basic human desire. So long as it's safe and consensual, what's the issue?"

"Nothing's an issue," Harry said slowly, "I've just never seen anyone so... open about it."

"You weren't complaining last night," Jena pointed out.

"Touché." Came the laughed reply. "Let's head to the show."

"Woo!" Jena cried, lacing her fingers with his. "I'm so ready!"

"Then what are we waiting for?"