Pretty in Plastic (l.s)

xviii

The bell dings as they walk through the door, and there's a strong stench of cleaning supplies, acetone, and polish. The sound of tiny tools working against nail hits his ear, and he looks to see multiple women with masks working on expensive looking clients. He sees to plastic chairs, and a table full of picture samples, and plastic nails with painted designs. The wall next to the little area has two small shelving units filled with polish.

"Hello," Harry looks at the small woman doing a client's nails in the front station, "can I help you?"

"We want to get our nails done." Louis holds his own out, and this is the first time Harry notices the smile. It's brighter than the one he had from the bear, and it strokes Harry's ego. He out did Liam.

"Well," Harry says nervously, "he does. I'm still on the fence."

Louis looks at him with a hint of sadness. Harry sees some of the women eying him: interested, blushing, and some have distain. Most are minding their own business, thankfully, but Harry sees the side eyes and it reminds him of Kala. She's right, people do find him weird.

"Have a seat, we'll be right with you." The woman says, and he feels a small hand clasp his. He feels Louis guide him to the chairs, and they sit. Louis instantly starts looking at pictures, and samples. Harry watches him with interest because the doll is so unbothered that he's blatantly comparing designs to the size of his nail.

"This one seems too intricate for my size nail." He mumbles, and grabs a more simpler one. "Oh, I like this."

He points to the glittered pink, and Harry hums. "Why don't you do a glittery black?"

Louis looks at him with his eyebrows raised, and Harry can see he piqued the doll's interest. Louis jumps a little in seat, and smiles. "Will you like it?"

"I like anything you do." Harry says honestly, and Louis blushes.

"Then I'll do a glittery black." He bites his lip, and places the samples down. "We should get matching."

"I'm not so sure." Harry looks at his nails again. Louis takes his hand, and drags the pad of his thumb across Harry's nail.

"No," Louis says finally, "pink and blue. Baby colors."

"Really?" Harry says, and the doll nods. Louis looks up at him, and smiles.

"You'll be so pretty." He says, and Harry clears his throat. "I'd love it."

"Okay," Harry says as he feels his confidence inflate, "baby pink, and baby blue it is."

—————

Harry laughs as he lays on the floor, Louis above him with the old polaroid. The doll is straddling him, insisting on taking a picture, and Harry is too shy.

"Let me take a picture!" Louis says, and Harry giggles. He covers his face, bright nails on display, and Louis' quick to press the button Harry told him about. The tiny picture comes out, and Louis shakes it like Harry showed him. Soon, the prettiest picture of Harry becomes visible: his eyes are peaking through his fingers, his smile isn't visible but his dimples are, and his rings shine from the camera's flash.

Louis' cheeks heat up, and he feels Harry nudge his chin. He looks past the picture, and sees Harry watching him with the same look he had all those years ago when he first got Louis: fond.

"Did it come out good?" He asks, and Louis just nods. Harry hums, and takes the camera. He aims it at Louis, and the doll objects. He covers the lense, but laughs when Harry tickles his side with a free hand. Harry snaps a quick shot when Louis moves his hands, and quickly airs the film to see it: Louis' smile reaches his eyes, his glittered nails are peaking through his sweater paws, and his eyes shine bright from the flash.

Harry hums again, and shows the picture to Louis. "I think I have my favorite picture."

Louis giggles, and lays on Harry. He places his face in the crook of Harry's neck, and feels Harry wrap an arm around him. They go quiet after that, and just stare at the pictures.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispers as he feels himself falling, "I'm sorry I won't ever make a move because I don't deserve you."

There's no answer, and Harry hears a soft snore. He chuckles because of course Louis would be asleep right now.

—————

"The house sold for a lot." Gemma mumbles as she stirs her coffee. Harry stares at his own, lost in thought. They're at a coffee shop, per Gemma's request, but it's hard to start a conversation.

"I told you I didn't want to talk about that ever again." Harry mumbles back, and he looks up from his stirring. His eyes lock on Gemma, but she's looking out the window. He sighs, and slouches over the table. "Look, I just want to make sure you're okay. Mom wouldn't want us leaving space like this, but that doesn't mean I'm okay with your decisions. I won't ever be."

She looks at the table, and purses her lips. She lifts a finger, barely pointing at Harry's hands. "You painted your nails."

Harry tucks his hands underneath the table, and clears his throat. Gemma quirks an eyebrow in interest, and decides to probe. "When did you do that?"

"A few days ago."

"Kala knows?"

"No." Harry grits out, and looks out at the street. Gemma sniggers, and covers her mouth. Harry watches her reflection.

"I'm sorry, but— she's going to lose it. You know her expectations."

"All too well, thanks." He whispers, and scratches his scruff. Gemma's smile falls, and she gently takes his hand in hers. Harry tenses and looks at her, but Gemma doesn't pay him any mind. She hums as she examines his nails, and nods.

"They're pretty. I like the colors." She mumbles, and Harry's cheeks tint a nice pink. "You always liked polish. I would do your toes some times, remember?"

"Yeah," Harry breathes, "I remember."

"I'm glad you're being you." She looks up from his nails, and smiles. "Mom would be, too."