idk what to call this one
Harry and I were scheduled for a photoshoot. Well, he was but he wanted me to come along and sneak into some of the pictures so we could have a few nice couple shots. Harry and I had only been together for five months at this point. He and I hadn’t gotten married yet and we hadn’t had our first child together yet.
It was a Saturday and the only thing on our agenda for the day was the photo shoot and then we were going to spend the night together at Harry’s apartment. The two of us were excited. I liked nights when I slept over at Harry’s. He liked when I’d sit in the bathroom while he showered and he’d sing to me. He claimed that the shower water patting on the ground was the best instrument he had ever heard.
I sat on the counter of the bathroom as he showered in the morning, singing Mary’s Place by Bruce Springsteen.
Harry sang it slowly and sweetly. I listened to my favorite lyrics, which were soon cut off and interrupted by another noise. “Ng’xtsch!”
“Bless you,” I called. It wasn’t unusual for that to happen once, if not several, times in the morning.
Harry answered, “Thanks, love!”
And then he continued singing.
Harry told me that all I needed to do before the shoot was shower and dry my hair and put on whatever clothes were easy to change in and out of. I followed his instructions, feeling a little naked as we got in the car.
The location of the photo shoot wasn’t too far away, and we made it there in good time. Harry pulled up to the front of the studio and pulled me inside.
Some photographer was standing there and there were a few people that I could tell were assigned to do our hair and makeup. Harry hadn’t told me that they had several outfits picked out for me to wear.
“Surprise!” Harry said.
I hugged him. “I don’t understand.”
Harry explained, “Well, a few people have been wondering about who I’ve been seeing and I was talking to my mum and she said she thought it was a good time for us to do something official. Photoshoots seem official to me.” I pulled him back into a hug. He laughed. “You’ve got t’let go, kitten, we’ve got some photos to take.”
The two of us were split up while we were getting ready.
The cycle went like this:
We’d try on an outift then they’d make us up. We would then take a large number of pictures together, and then the cycle would start over.
I was down to my last oufit (out of 6 or 7) when one of the makeup artists started to reapply some of her perfume.
“Could I have some perfume?” I asked shyly.
The girl laughed, “Of course, doll.” She sprayed me heavily, and I coughed a bit. She then ushered me out to the photographers who told me that Harry was still in makeup and they were going to do a few solo shots of me.
They then brought Harry out and we did a few photos together, our outfits didn’t match well enough for a large series. I then went to change while some solo photos of Harry were taken.
I left my makeup on but I took off the clothes and put my hair up. As I walked out after changing, Harry was walking back to his dressing room. He kissed me on the cheek and then wrinkled his nose while he passed. I paid little attention to it, focusing more on what the shots were going to look like as I previewed them on the photographer’s camera.
Once Harry was done we walked to the car. It was nice, so we rolled the windows down and played some old music on the radio. After a little while we got back home and were ready to relax.
Harry told me he was going to make us some Mac n’ Cheese and that I should find a film or documentary for us to watch.
The two of us were exhausted. The photo shoot had taken much longer than anticipated and Harry and I had only had a fifteen minute lunch break. It was nearing 6 pm and I was glad that Harry was making dinner. I was tired and I didn’t really feel like making a meal. I smelled my hair to see if there was too much hairspray or if I didn’t have to shower immediately. I didn’t smell too much hairspray but there was a nice lavender smell that I assumed was the perfume. As I waited for Harry I chose a documentary about serial killers and queued it up on the screen. I often found myself watching this type of documentary. I was big on psychology and everything I watched just broadened my knowledge.
Harry spun into the room holding two bowls and two spoons. He flopped down next to me on the couch and kissed me. I grinned and kissed him again, then took my respective bowl and started eating. Harry giggled at my lack of hesitation with the Mac n’ Cheese.
He then leaned into me. I clicked play and kissed Harry’s cheek.
A few minutes into the documentary, Harry started sniffling. It wasn’t too bad at first, but ten minutes in he needed me to pause the film and let him get a tissue. He said one, but he returned with the entire box and a bin, as if he was expecting that he would need more in the future. I shrugged and waited for him to blow his nose before clicking play.
Within the next ten minutes I needed to pause four more times for him to clear his sinuses.
I asked, “Babe, are you feeling okay?” I put my hand on his forehead—he seemed to be of a normal temperature.
“Yeah,” He said. “M’nose is jus’ tickly.” He then turned to the side, his breath wavering. He stayed there, his hitching breaths increasing their pitch with each inhale. After several seconds of torture, he finally lifted his hand to his nose and sneezed twice in quick succession. “Hm’ptsch-hih’tscHhh!” He sniffled and blew his nose. “Sorry, that’s been teasin’ me since we got home.”
I said, “Bless you.”
Harry sat back down next to me. He leaned his head back onto my chest.
I started the documentary once again. The psychologists were talking about the defining traits of a serial killer. They discussed the trifecta that had been commonly use to classify a serial killer but had been debunked.
They were in the middle of explaining the third component, an inability to make and maintain close relationships, when Harry snapped to the side, “Huh’isheeww!” It was loud, which was odd for Harry’s sneezes.
“Bless you.”
“What is making me sneeze?”