Lipstick - Imagine
The commotion from the end of the hall was slowly starting to gain the attention of everyone who loitered outside. The voices, which had previously been muffled by the closed door, gradually grew louder and louder, until every word shared between the group could be heard by everyone who hung around long enough to listen. Harry’s was the loudest, his low, rumbling tones were suddenly filled with anger and upset as he cried back in retaliation.
“Excuse me, excuse me” I mumbled as I weaved my way through the packed hallway, gently but urgently rushing towards the meeting room to do what I could to calm the situation. I didn’t wait to knock, instead pushing my way through the closed door and stumbling into what appeared to be quite a heated situation. All those in the room stood in challenge to the others. Against the wall Liam, Niall and Louis rested their backs, withdrawing themselves as best they could from the argument that was waging between Harry and 2 senior members of the management team, with nothing but a flimsy wooden desk separating them.
“What the hell is going on in here?!” I cried as I closed the door firmly behind me, announcing my presence and shielding the exchange from prying eyes. Harry’s eyes snapped towards me. His face was red with anger, his jaw was tense beneath his porcelain skin, and his hands were balled tightly into fists at his side. A moment of silence fell upon the room as I cast my gaze around every person present. Harry let his stare drop, Liam and Louis would barely look me in the eye, Niall made a step forward, as if prepared to speak, but with a quick glance towards the two men behind the desk he thought better of his decision and returned to where he stood.
“It’s none of your concern” one of the men spoke. I had never taken the time to learn the names of the management team, most of them meant nothing to me and Harry often made it clear that there would never be a time when I would need to address them personally.
“I don’t believe I was asking you” I replied, offering a quick raised eyebrow before directing my attention towards Harry.
“What’s going on?” I repeated. Harry was never one to lie, especially to me, yet I could see on brewing on the tip of his tongue. I gave a disgruntled sigh and placed both hands on my hips, keeping my gaze firmly locked on his own.
“I-” he began before taking a small breath and composing himself. He looked weak and small as he stood before me, a far cry from the man who I encountered when I first entered the room. He looked afraid. Afraid of me? Afraid of them? Afraid of what I might think? I could not say. His eyes fell to the floor.
“I asked if I could wear lipstick, tonight for the show. Well I more told them that I was going to. But they… they said-”
“We said no” one of the men interrupted. He was a short, stout man, with a shiny bald head and a freshly shaved face. A small cut was present just below his ear where he had nicked himself.
“And why did you say that?” I asked, casting my attention towards them. From the corner of my eye I saw Harry’s head snap up towards mine.
“Because it’s a ridiculous suggestion” the second added, “wearing lipstick on stage” he tutted.
Anger bubbled in the pit of my stomach as I observed the two narrow minded men before me. Harry had never been one to hide such desires from me. Whenever he wanted his nails painted I was the one he came to. Often he would ask me to put little braids in his hair as we sat and watched TV together in the evening. Harry was wonderful, and unique, I adored everything about him. But to know that he was ashamed to admit that he wanted to wear lipstick in front of me, only made me realise that the two men before me were the reason. They made him feel ashamed of who he was, who he wanted to be, and it took everything in my power to not leap across the desk and smack them.
“Harry, go get my make-up bag. It’s in the rucksack I brought with me” I said, my eyes never wavering from the two men before me.
Harry took a step towards me but hesitated.
“Y/N it doesn’t matter-” he began.
“Harry,” I said, returning my attention to him. His eyes were soft, his hands wringing together in front of him. “Go get it” I said gently, reaching my hand out to place it on his nervous ones. He turned one of his palms upwards and let his fingers dance with mine for only a second, before nodding and leaving the room. Chaos erupted behind him.
“How dare you!” the short one spat, “we have worked for years to create his image!”
“Fuck his image” I hissed. “Do you know anything about those people out there?” I asked, gesturing my hand vaguely in the direction of the stage where already the crowd was beginning to build. Screams and loud chatter could be head down the halls and an excited tension sizzled in the air. “Do you think they care about some ‘image’ you have tried to create. I know how they think, I know what they like. I’ve been a fan for 5 years, I’ve watched this band grow and I’ve seen their talent grow with it! Do you think they are here to see these boys because of some image you think you’ve created? This stadium will be full tonight because these boys have given them something most have never had before. Something to love. Those people out there probably know each individual boy better than you ever will, they love the individual personalities of each and every one of them. Were either of you paying even the slightest bit of attention when Harry performed with his hair braided, or when he went on stage with painted nails and a Pride wristband? ‘Cause if you were you will have noticed that on those days, that boy got more attention, more appreciation and more love than he has EVER received during one of your little publicity stunts!” I yelled. My cheeks were flushed red with frustration, my hands shook at my side and my heart leapt in my chest, beating against my ribcage so hard I was sure I could hear it.
“She’s right” Niall muttered, but was quickly silenced by a glare from the other man.
Before another word could be uttered, Harry stepped back into the room, my small bag in his hand. In the other he held a single lipstick, clasped firmly in his palm. He held it out for me.
“No Harry” I smiled, taking the little tube from him and glancing at the sticker on the end, “It’s not the right shade for you. You need something lighter” I said. His eyes widened slightly in understanding before he unzipped the bag and rummaged through, pulling out tube after tube, glancing at the colour before finally settling on a light red.
I took the tube from him and beckoned him closer. He shuffled forward and crouched slightly as I removed the lid and swiped the stick carefully across his lips, following the curve of his cupids bow and flicking my eyes up to meet his every few seconds. His eyes were dark and full of adoration. I’m sure he would have spoken if he could.
“He’ll be mocked for this. Ridiculed!” the short one barked.
“Perhaps”, I said, wiping off a small smudge with my thumb and placing the lid back on the tube, “but at least he’s being himself”.
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I’m sorry for not updating in so long! I have been working really hard on my fic and unfortunately my imagines have taken a back seat!
If you would like to check out my Harry fanfic ‘Chimera’ then follow the link below! There are 24 chapters posted so far:
https://www.wattpad.com/story/72445114-chimera-h-s
I hope you enjoy!