"I almost did it, Perrie", my voice cracks into the phone call, my eyes almost burning in tears. "I almost told him."

"Told him what? Because there's a lot of things you want to tell him, Niall", she answers from the other side of the line.

I don't know how my friendship with Perrie Edwards started - she just happened to be there when I needed someone who wasn't the one I was in love with. In fact, Perrie and my brother Greg are the only ones who know the truth, and I'd prefer to keep things like this before it turns out to be a big storm I cannot control.

It's complicated. I feel love for Harry, but at the same time, I never had the chance to realize if it's really love or just my body burning in desire for a man like him. I said what I said.

"That I'd never hurt him because I'm in love with him."

"What did you do?"

"We were joking around on the kitchen and I said something about Louis."

"No way", I can definitely imagine Perrie breathing heavily, looking at herself in the mirror and thinking what the hell is wrong with this dude. Just like she always does. "Gosh, Niall, watch your mouth!"

"Do you think I don't know that?" I shout back. "I felt so guilty and we were so close and I panicked an--"

"Stop", she interrupts me. "Being nervous won't take your arse anywhere. He already knows you're sorry, right?"

"Of course he does."

"Then do something to make things up with him. Attitude, Niall James Horan. That is the word."

I knock on Harry's bedroom door four times. My secret lucky number. I hear him mumble something like "come in" and I turn the door knob, walking in calm footsteps into his bed right after. 

Harold looks stunning, like always, although he's only wearing his classic gray sweatpants and a... One Direction-themed T-shirt. Don't ask me why. His hair is a mess, the curls about to fly in every single direction of this room, and I suddenly remember something we could do.

"Are you gonna let me cut your hair, H?" I simply say, still standing on my feet, waiting for an answer from the man in front of me. He looks deeply in my eyes and I can feel he's about to laugh, when he stands up from his bed and walks to where I'm standing.

"You're not going to feel relieved about that thing until you make it up, right?" He says back, with a smirk on his face. His left hand softly grasps what's left of my blond hair.

"Yeah. I'm so sorry, Haz, I love you and I wanna do it. And your hair looks terrible."

"Won't take it as an offense", his joke makes me laugh a little. And I already know my face looks like a tomato because of his fingers riding my hair, what makes this scene a little bit more... awkward. To say at least. "Ok. You can cut my hair."

"Oh, my--"

"But there's a condition", he fires back, leaving me speechless. "You must kill your blond hair too."

"Oh, Harold." He smiles, burying his face on my neck, and I know it's just a way he found out to please me so I'll do what he wants. "Don't do it."

"Do what?" He plants a quick kiss right behind my left ear, and I feel myself shiver at the touch.

"Har--" I can't complete my sentence. "What are you doing?"

Harry stops kissing my neck, and the space between us comes back. I want to pull his body into mine again, but I know I can't. I want to taste his lips, but I know I can't. I want to mess with his hair while we're kissing, but I know I can't.

"Nothing", he shrugs, like the last twenty seconds never happened at all. "Will you kill this hair?"

"Fuck yeah."