drop dead lou » |larry au|

THREE.

Harry was staring at himself in the mirror in front of him. Sure, the new haircut fit him right. He had his curls now up in a subtle quiff, looking more manly and grown up. Yeah, he liked it.

Gemma was behind him, looking at him too, grinning at the masterpiece she just created. Well, not exactly, but sort of. She just told Louise what she wanted for Harry.

“Lou here, is the woman who always does my hair, she’s like a hair goddess or something,” Gemma said smiling, looking at Lou, the stylist.

“Well, the fact that your hair is rather appropriate to my experiments is just fine,” Lou answered, giving Harry a last check before she took off the cape.

“So? Do you like it Harry?” Gemma asked, putting her hands in his brother’s shoulders.

“Yeah, it’s perfect, thanks Louise,” Harry said back, smiling shyly to the tall, slim pale-skin figure behind him.

“No problem, Harry,” she said, winking and smiling, “whenever you want.”

“Okay, now,” Gemma said, taking her bag and turning over, “to buy some new clothes.”

They got out of the hair-salon and made their way to some shops in the same mall they were in.

Harry thought his clothes were just good. Why did he need new ones? I mean, yes maybe he had some jeans ripped off, but he liked them that way. And yeah, maybe his boots were a little bit worn-out but he liked those boots, like, a lot.

Gemma entered some shops like Burberry and Saint Lauren, while Harry wanted to enter to vintage stores or even GAP. He didn’t want to dress like posh. But since Gemma was paying…

Anyways, they at least bought like three new pair of jeans and no less than seven button-up shirts, none of them flannel or plaid shirts, because Harry had already tons of those, and of course, new pair of boots and a new elegant coat.

Harry looked different, more grown up, more serious. No one who looked at him walking down the street would believe he had an imaginary friend. Never.

When they got home, there was a little note stick on the door with Harry’s name on it.

“What’s that?” Gemma said, opening the door.

Harry took the note from the door, and unfold it, starting to read it. It was from Nick. Nick, like his husband.

“Ohhh, nice,” Gemma said, putting the bags down and closing the door, “what does it says?”

Harry started reading out loud, for Gemma to listen,

“Dear Harry, I came by but there’s was no one in sight, so I decided to leave this note. I miss our mornings, the way you made my days brighter with your smile and your scent all over my pillow. I miss those days tasting champagne in our living room sitting by the fireplace. Please, call me. We have so much to talk about. Love, Nick.”

“See? I told you, being with me was going to make Nick think straight,” Gemma said.

“I have to go and see him, Gems,” Harry said, leaving the bags in the dining table and taking his keys from the little bowl by the door.

“Okay but just— like call me if you need anything?” Gemma said but it was too late, Harry was already outside.

✖✖✖✖

Harry opened the door to their flat, Nick and his. He made his way inside, leaving the keys in the kitchen counter, going to their room, looking for Nick.

“Nick,” Harry said loudly, “Nick I’m here.”

No one answered, meaning Harry was alone in their flat. Nick hadn’t arrived yet to the flat.