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disgruntledkittenface:

Jonathan is sitting on his other side, deep in conversation with Harry about his curly hair. Louis rests his head back as well, half listening to their debate on the merits of different shampoo brands and how often Harry should be washing his hair. Louis closes his eyes for a few moments, but he’s not sleepy enough for a catnap.

When he opens his eyes, he sees Harry pulling his phone out of his pocket to show Jonathan something.

“Oh. My. God!” Jonathan exclaims as he grabs Harry’s phone for a closer look. “Honey, you look divine! Look at you!”

Louis sneaks a peek over Jonathan’s shoulder and almost chokes on his own spit.

There’s a photo of Harry on the screen, from about the chest up. He’s clad in a simple white t-shirt, with one of the sleeves hitched up a little, showing off his tattoos. His lips are an especially rosy pink, and Louis automatically wonders if he had been biting them. A pair of sunglasses are atop his head, acting as a headband for his long, luscious curls that fall past his shoulders, mostly swept to one side.  

Louis might actually pass out. Harry with long hair is hot as fuck. Obscene. Sinful, really. Louis wants to snatch the phone out of Jonathan’s hands, doesn’t want anyone else to look. Touch.

“Yeah, so it, ah, took about two years to grow out,” Harry rambles, pinching his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger. Jesus, he’s so hot. There’s nothing he could do to get hotter. “And then when it was long enough,” Harry continues, “because, you know, you need at least eight inches, then I cut it and donated it.”

Well, fuck.


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