Anxious [H.S]

Chapter 19: It Doesn't Smell Like You

Olive finally found Kenna a job and all she does is complain about it, having to wake up early, being on her feet all day, and basically anything else she can complain about. I had to sit down with her the other day and set up a chart of important stuff she should spend money on and what she shouldn't. We had a whole ten minute argument about new clothes not being important. I decide that tonight I am going to do a face mask. I haven't done one in so long, since before I met Harry. I walk to the bathroom and paint the gray mixture onto my face. Painting onto my face is my favorite part, it feels nice. When I am done putting on the mask, I go to the kitchen to grab some water.

"Woah, what's on your face?" Harry asks, sitting at the counter, looking up from his computer.

"A face mask," I say, washing my hands.

"Oh," he says, looking back at his computer.

"Would you like to try one?" I ask, walking to stand behind him, placing my hands on his shoulders, squeezing gently. He feels tense. Maybe he stressed out about something.

"Yes, that would be lovely," he says, shutting his lap top.

"Follow me," I say grabbing his hand and going into my room.

I grab him a green headband and my face mask stuff. I drag him out of my bedroom and into the bathroom. I lift myself so I am sitting on the counter so I can easily reach his face. I pull him forward so he is standing between my legs and I put the head band on him to keep his hair out of his face.

"You look nice in my hoodie," he states, watching me intently as I put some of the face mask mixture onto the brush.

"Thanks but you need to take it back," I say, starting to put it on his face.

"Why?" he asks,  furrowing his eyebrows.

"It doesn't smell like you anymore," I reply.

"That's fine because when I take it back, it will smell like you," he says, watching my face intently as I paint his face with the mask.

I have been wearing his gray hoodie non stop since he gave it to me that night we got soaked from the rain, I love wearing it.

"Are you okay Harry?" I ask, painting the mask onto his nose.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" he questions.

"Well because when I came into the kitchen you seemed very tense and I just wanted to make sure you're okay. I know I might not understand half the stuff you have to deal with but you can always talk to me about it," I explain, now painting the mask onto his chiseled cheekbone.

"Well if I am being honest I am a bit stressed out. My manager keeps emailing me about new music but I don't want to rush into another album, it feels like I just got back from tour. I just want to take my time. I want to enjoy my free time, I want to enjoy my time with you. If that makes sense," he confesses.

"Harry it makes complete sense," I state. "Just an F.Y.I if you ever have trouble writing I can definitely help you, I am so good at writing songs," I joke, causing him to laugh.

"I don't know about that but I can definitely write songs about you," he states, giggling.

"Oh and what would they be called? The girl who passed out?" I joke.

"No if I wrote a song about you it would definitely have something to do with sunflowers," he says.

"Very clever," I state.

Imagine if he actually wrote a song about me, Kenna would flip. I mean I would too honestly.

"Okay, I have to set a timer for fifteen minutes and then you have to take it off," I state, looking in the mirror taking off my own.