Harry quietly shuts the door, trying his best to sneak past his family to get upstairs to his bedroom. Before he can though, his sister whips around the corner, startling him. "Oh gosh," he gasps, pressing his hand to his chest. "Almost had me bookin," he chuckles.

His sister, Gemma, shrugs, "Where was you all this time?" she asks. "Left last night, yeah?"

Harry nods "Uh... yeah. Went to a party of a friends, lots a people ended up stayin over," he tells her. It's obvious that she doesn't believe him though, and she pulls on the collar of his shirt.

"Lot's of people, huh? A special one in particular?" she raises his eyebrows. Harry swats her hand away, lips pursed and his hand on his neck. She smiles, "Got that glow," she crosses her arms. "Do I know her?" she asks quietly.

Harry's expression fades. She doesn't know, and he can't even tell her. It hadn't hit him until this moment either. The fact that he doesn't know if he'll ever be able to tell his family or anyone he loves about his relationship. Not to mention the fact that he's gay. He doesn't even know if he'll ever be able to say the words out loud, even if it were just him alone.

"No," he mumbles. "You don't know her," he says with furrowed eyebrows before rushing up to his room. He doesn't want anymore questions from her, and definitely if she's going to keep referring to whoever he was with as a woman.

"God," Harry kicks the post of his bed, and falls onto it, yelling deep into his pillow. Then he turns onto his back, eyes squeezed shut. The most perfect morning with Louis, even telling each other that they love each other, now thrown to trash.

Harry wipes his eyes, and lets out a pathetic wet laugh, "This s'ridiculous," he stands, but stops when he see's himself in the small mirror perched on his dresser. His hair long, a bit past his shoulders, and messy. He grimaces, then lets his head fall to his lap with a large sigh.

In a quick move, he stands again and grabs something from inside the dresser, before locking himself in the bathroom. The mirror in there is bigger, and he taps his fingers against the counter for a good minute.

"Fuck, just do it," he says, biting the inside of his cheek. "Okay," he lets out a small breath, and brings the switchblade up towards his neck.

Harry's heart pounds against his chest, cutting and cutting his hair. Thick curls that turn into an awkward fringe. "Holy fuck," he drops the switchblade into the sink. His hands cup his mouth, now wanting to cry of frustration more than ever.

He struggles to quickly clean the hair and dump it into the trash can, but when he does he finds a hat in the hall closet and snags the car keys from the front door. "I'm leaving!" he calls, not waiting for a response before bolting from the door to the safety of the car.

It's a nerve racking drive back to Louis' house, and he's not even sure if one of the boys can fix his hair. He knocks, crossing his arms tight against his chest.

Harry recognizes the boy who opens the door, but his name draws a blank until someone asks him who's there. Dean peaks his head around the corner. "Your boyfriend's here!" he shouts and disappears into another room.

Stan shrugs and lets him in, "Louis should be at the telly with the others," Harry follows him, but doesn't sit down.

Louis looks up, or really upside down, then turns his body, "Hiya, baby. You alright?" he stands and runs his hand up Harry's arm.

The younger boy looks to the side embarrassedly, "Uh... I kind of did something, and I really need you or someone to fix it," he talks lowly, not wanting to be heard by the others.

Louis furrows his eyebrows, "What happened, you're not in danger are you?" he asks sternly.

"Oh god," Harry shakes his head. "No no, nothing like that," he says, shoulders relaxing when seeing Louis calm down.

"Good," the older sighs, and cocks his head. "You've hidden those pretty curls," he murmurs, knocking the hat off. Harry scrunches his nose and squeezes his eyes shut. "Oh no, Harr," he breathes. "I... what did you do?"

"Stop, I know," Harry's arms fall to his side. "It's bad. Do one of your guys know how to fix it?"

Louis hugs him, his fingers running through the new do, "No," he coos. "But Mar can, she's down the street. C'mon," he pats his side, slipping on shoes and grabbing that goddamn jean jacket. He spends the whole walk trying to tell Harry how it's not that bad, even if they both know it is.

"I just... I was being dramatic and wanted to do something. This was the first thing I thought of," they stop at a cute washed out yellow house. Louis rings the doorbell, but doesn't have to wait a second before a girl opens the door. She's young, but Harry can tell that she's older than both him and Louis.

"Hi, Louis, come in, hon," she gives a sweet smile, opening the door wider for the two. Harry follows blindly, looking around the home while closing the door behind him. It's nice. Busy.

"I need your help. My friend here chopped his locks off, and I need your help fixing it," he says. "If you would, that is," he sits at the small breakfast bar.

The girl grins, "Yes, of course!" she rushes off into the bathroom, then peeks her head out. "Come on in, then," she raises her eyebrows.

Harry gets a nod from Louis, and then joins the girl in the bathroom, where she's set up a chair. She's got a small bag and a barber cape, "Sit down, love," she sets the bag on the counter. "I used to work in a salon on the other side of town, but things got too busy, and I got caught up with my little one. Took a year off and then started just doing it here at home," she drapes the cape over Harry's shoulders, and empties the bag onto the counter. He takes his hat off. "Oh, honey," she sighs with a smile. "Rough day?"

Harry huffs with a laugh, "You could say that."

She sprays his hair with water, then gets started. Harry bites his lip, "Uh, could you try keeping it as long as you can without it lookin ridiculous?" he feels stupid asking, but she only nods.

"Course. You's are all so caught up with that. Greased up hair and bike jackets," she smiles.

Harry watches her work in the mirror. He doesn't even realize Louis in the doorway. "He's from the other side," he smirks.

Mar's face lights up, "Really? How'd you pick him up then?"

Louis shrugs, "My charm."

Harry can't help but grin at his cheeky remarks, "Bugger," he mumbles under his breath.

Mar giggles, "You's are so cute. How long you been together?" she asks.

Harry's eyes go wide. No one's supposed to know about them, right? Except Louis doesn't even seem phased.

"Officially? This morning, but the rest is for us to know and no one else," he gives her a playful wink. She rolls her eyes playfully.

"Alright," she says, and pats Harry's shoulder. "Don't worry. I've known he's been with men since practically the moment I met little fourteen year old Louis. Won't ever tell a soul."

Harry bites the inside of his cheek. Fourteen year old Louis? He can only imagine. He probably tried being the toughest version of himself back then, even though he probably wasn't allowed to do anything by whoever was in charge of their little pack at the time.

He doesn't ask how they knew each other all those years ago. He doesn't need to know, anyway, it's not something important to him. He just sits quiet and lets the girl work her magic on his disaster of a haircut. She turns him around towards the end, though, so that he can't see what he looks like.

Louis is grinning when Mar steps back. He runs his fingers loosely through his hair. "I'm actually kinda diggin it, doll," he smirks.

Harry turns, then, gasping, "Woah," he chuckles. "Worked wonders. Thank you so much, Mar. Don't know what I'd do if I had to live with what it was before," she laughs and gives him a hug.

(go look up Harry's hair from when he did Ever Since New York on SNL, that's his hair now since it was short but also kinda long & messy & grEat)

"I normally charge my customers, but Louis' a long friend of mine, so you're covered," she starts cleaning up the station, just as the front door is heard opening. "Oh, boys are home!" she leaves the bathroom, greeting who Harry guesses is her husband and little boy. He coos under his breath.

Mar's husband offers to clean up for her, and she takes the boy in her arms. Louis lets his touch linger on Harry's arm. "Thanks, Mar," he nods to her.

"Anytime you need, boys," she returns the gesture, waiting by the door while the boys leave the house.

"You really like it?" Harry asks.

Louis resists the urge to grab Harry's hand, "Dig it big time. Might have my hands in it all day. And night, if you know what I mean," he teases, wearing the biggest smirk ever.

Harry snorts, shaking his head while smiling to himself, "Maybe I'll have to just stay over again and we can test the assumption," he says. And Louis' eyes light up.

"I'm up for it."

-

that's his hair \/ \/ \/