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It all started innocently enough, as all things that usually end up breaking your heart do. Louis wasn’t even a fan of heavy makeup, not because she didn’t think it looked amazing on every single girl she saw, but because she lacked the skill and patience to apply it on her own face. Few things were more beautiful to her than the delicate, almost ethereal swift with which girls blended their sparkly eye shadow side to side with clockwork precision, or the way their fingers kept firm, accurate strokes on their cheeks to give themselves that beautiful and well-deserving glow.
Louis found herself staring more often than not at the ease and softness of every movement from Harry’s lipstick, upper lip first, carefully designed to look just a tiny bit plumper than it already was, one light stroke from the middle to the left corner of her mouth, then from the middle to the right. She’d always touch the right corner of her upper lip with the tip of her index finger to remove any smudge there might be, even if there wasn’t any visible. Louis had all this memorized. Then she would apply a much thicker layer to her bottom lip; she was much more confident about her lower lip, she always thought she wouldn’t make any mistakes there, and then she’d huff and curse for putting too much product and smudging her chin with it and ruining her concealer.
“Oh crap, now there’s purple lipstick all over my face! Lou, get me a cotton ball, yeah love? I’ve put too much of it on!”
“What? Oh, yeah, sure, here you go.” Louis handed it to her that night, swallowing hard. She always hoped she wasn't being too obvious about her staring. It’s just that Harry was so gorgeous and her eyes were so green, and Louis… she was so in love with her best friend her chest hurt.
“You should definitely try this lipstick Niall gave me! This color would look amazing on you!” Harry smiled big at her, holding the little applicator cheerfully. “I know you don’t like makeup and all, and it’s fair, I mean, it’s not like you need it, but you know, it’s nice to try something new.”
“It’s not that I don’t like it,” Louis answered, choosing to ignore the part where Harry said she didn’t need makeup, she was fully aware of the amount of spots on her forehead thank you very much, “it’s just that I’m bad at it, and I don’t feel makeup suits me, I’d look like a clown.”
“Don’t be silly!” Harry laughed, “Here, let me put it on you!” Then she fully cackled when Louis almost fell from the chair she was sitting on the moment Harry moved an inch closer to her face. “I’m not gonna hurt you, you know!”
Louis snickered. “Of course not.” She sighed in defeat. “Fine, just lipstick, though.”
“Promise.” Harry lifted two fingers up like a girl scout and Louis smiled. She’d jump off a cliff if Harry asked her nicely, that was just a fact.
Even now, Louis doesn’t know how to explain it. It would sound dumb to anyone who was never in love under the circumstances she was. She knew Harry was straight, that was the thing. Therefore, the moment she realized she was a lesbian herself any and all touches had changed meaning practically overnight, not to Harry, of course, but to Louis. Every long hug, every kiss on the cheek, every lazy rub on her belly when they spooned during their endless bed sharing, it all had changed. She felt she needed to find a way she could balance her own feelings without growing cold and taking it out on Harry, who was obviously not to blame for the way Louis felt.
So that moment when Harry’s lipstick touched Louis’ lips, well, it felt like a kiss from Harry, a kiss she would never get, and yes, that was naive, stupid even, she knew. She also knew chills were running through her body, tingling all over. That lipstick had just been on Harry’s lips and it was now on hers; that seemed meaningful somehow. She had missed that closeness between them; she’d missed it so badly it was pathetic. It pathetically felt like some sort of compromise.
“Are you good, love? You’re frozen!” Harry had asked, half-worried humor in her voice. “It’s not a surgery…”
Louis had even managed to let out a silent laugh, pressing her lips together once Harry was done. She felt short of breath for a while.
She wasn’t proud to admit her borrowing Harry’s lipstick became increasingly frequent after that night. Louis tried to keep it as discreet as possible, but it was quick turning into some sort of addiction.
“Oy, Harriet, what is that color lipstick you’re wearing?”
“Oh, you like it?” Harry’s cheeks would always flush when Louis mentioned anything related to her appearance, it was so cute, but Louis figured she was like that with all her friends. Harry was just sweet like that.
“Yeah, it’s nice.” Louis scratched the back of her neck, embarrassed. “Can I borrow it?”
“Oh?” Harry asked, confused. They were going out with Liam and Niall to this new club downtown and the other two girls always made fun of Louis for wearing jeans and sweatshirts on their girls’ night out. Louis knew they mostly did it to tease her and not really because they cared about her wardrobe, but she still felt a little inadequate from time to time. That had nothing to do with why she was asking Harry for her lipstick that day, though. “Do you want me to do your makeup for you? ‘Cos I’d love to!”
“Nah, it’s alright, just the lipstick is enough.” Louis said, hoping not to sound too suspicious.
Harry smiled, searching her clutch for the said product.
“You know, not that you should care, but no one wears just lipstick…”
“Why not?” Louis asked, furrowing her brows. She suddenly felt like Harry was trying to save her from looking like a fool. Ripped jeans, vans, denim jacket, awfully dark circles and bright red lipstick really didn’t go together when she thought about it. “You know what? Forget it.”
“No! Louis, I didn’t mean anything by it!” Harry looked panicky, searching faster in her purse. “People don’t wear just lipstick because they like to follow convention, that’s literally the only reason! Please, here, let me put it on for you.”
And once again, looking in the mirror, seeing the same color in both their lips made Louis’ stomach flutter stupidly. She wished she could explain how satisfying it was to catch a glimpse of her own reflection throughout the night and see that bright red there to remind her she had, even if just so vaguely, the taste of what could have been.
“Please, Lou, just let me, pretty please?” Harry was pouting and dragging her words the way she did when she didn’t really have any good arguments, but knew the very sound of her low pitched voice was enough to convince anyone of whatever bullshit she was saying.
“Why don’t you use Liam? She has a good face for that kind of thing.”
“I don’t want Liam, I want you.” Harry was pouting even harder and Louis was sure if she knew what that did to her... Harry would take a week off to give Louis a goddamn break.
“What even is a full-face make-up? Eye shadow, mascara and lipstick?”
“Oh, my sweet summer child…” Harry shook her head, faking solemnity. “You have no idea how ridiculously complex it is to perform femininity in this time and age.”
Louis couldn’t help herself but snicker. Damn Harry, she loved that girl.
“I’ll even let you pick out the colors.”
“Why, thank you for allowing me a choice, Miss Styles.” Louis pulled a chair backwards, so she could rest her elbows on the backrest. Harry giggled.
“You can take it all off if you don’t like it, however, if you do like it, we’re going to the movies, clown makeup and all.”
“Alright, alright.” Louis resigned to her fate, while Harry began to fix her brushes. “Is there anything good on?”
“I want to see ‘It’”. Harry said absent-mindedly, going through one of her many make-up drawers. “Which color lipstick do you want to try?”
“Which one do you wear the most?” Louis asked before she could stop herself.
Harry lifted her head up as quickly as Louis slapped herself mentally for the obviously weirdly worded question.
“I mean,” she coughed, “which one do you like the most?”
Harry only gave her an endearing smile.
“Well, I quite like this one.” She held up a nude lipstick, well worn, as in not even the label was visible anymore. “But it won’t suit you since I’m much paler than yo-“
“That’s the one I want.”
“But I just told you-”
“I like nude colors.” Louis was quick to add. “They’re not too bold, that’s exactly what I’m looking for.”
“Louis, love, nude is only nude if they match your skin tone.” Harry explained patiently; she seemed amused. “What’s with you lately?”
“What do you mean?” Louis straightened up, slightly freaking out.
“I mean your sudden obsession with lipstick.” Harry’s bright smile seemed to take over the entire room and Louis let out a relived breath. At least she didn’t seem weirded out.
Louis scoffed.
“I don’t have an obsession. Just because I want to wear the occasional lipstick now doesn’t mean that I’m suddenly obsessed with what you put in your mouth, I mean on your mouth, I-”
Harry’s smile was getting bigger at every word that came out of Louis so she just stopped talking.
“What?”
“Nothing, love. I’ll put it on, and if you still like the color, then we’ll use it on you. Sounds good?”
“Sounds perfect.”
When Harry moved to her own flat, she’d made sure Louis had gotten a spare key so she could go in and out whenever she wanted, it was basically the same as from when they were roommates, the only difference being that now Louis didn’t know Harry’s schedule and vice-versa. They still hung out practically every weekend, but even though they lived only two stations away from each other, they often missed each other on weekdays.
Harry’s flat was actually closer to Louis’ job than her own house, so sometimes, after a particular stressful day at work, she’d just stop by Harry’s for a cup of tea and/or occasional sleepover. In the beginning, right as Harry moved out, Louis thought her constant dropping by was probably a bad idea. This distance between them, made more real by them finally moving apart, was a sign not to get closer than necessary, but after a while, she realized it was just impossible for them to stay out of each other’s lives, even if they tried. Something was always drawing them together.
That Thursday wasn’t different. Harry’s flat was super organized and she loved collecting little hipster decor items, like porcelain dogs, and vintage tea kettles. They always made Louis smile no matter how many times she’d already entered those rooms. Harry’s kitchen looked like it belonged to an 80-year-old and Louis was in love with it. She was in love with everything Harry. When she finished pouring water in the kettle for tea and placing it on the stove, a couple of items on the kitchen counter caught her attention. A power bill, some keys with a little donut keychain, a post-it note that said ‘buy almond milk’ and a lipstick.
Louis shook her head at the post it note and took the lipstick. Why did Harry leave it in the kitchen? Maybe she’d forgotten there on her way to work. She opened the lid before she could think more of it. Ok, maybe she did have a problem. Ok, maybe it was a terrible idea to keep coming back to Harry’s when the universe had given her a way out the moment Harry’d found that place so they wouldn’t have to live together anymore.
It was the peachy color she’d seen Harry wear more and more the last couple of weeks. It was interesting to see how her state of mind always reflected on her choice of lipstick. Louis had noticed she’d go for dark purple when she felt sexy, bright red when she felt confident, nude colors when she felt relaxed, and rosy or peachy colors when she felt stressed for some reason. Louis touched it very slightly with the tip of her finger. She closed her eyes. What wouldn’t she give to have the real deal? Harry’s perfect lips, her wonderful self, how amazing would it feel to know it was more than ok to love her the way she did? Louis sighed.
Harry would probably be much more creeped out by the fact that Louis thought about kissing and touching her every single day than by the fact that Louis was indeed weirdly obsessed with her lipsticks. Louis jumped out of her skin when she heard the kettle whistling behind her, snapping out of it. She put the lipstick where she found it and moved back to the sink, so she poured herself some tea. This was the closest she’d ever get.
When the Holidays finally arrived, the girls agreed to spend it at Louis’. Her flat was in no way the biggest or most comfortable, but everyone said it was the one that felt the most like home, and she was really happy they felt that way, even though she didn’t quite understand why. Every year they agreed to not exchange gifts and every year Harry showed up with the best gifts for all of them, including Louis’ cat, so everyone gave up scolding her after a couple of years. They usually brought out some snacks and drinks and spent Xmas Eve chatting up and watching movies until morning.
Louis always felt a bit down during the Holidays, so she focused on putting up the decorations for their little get-together to take her mind off of things. She hadn’t seen Harry in three weeks and that was probably the longest they’d been apart from each other in years. The end of the year was always busy for Harry, working in advertising was no fun on Christmas time, so Louis was pretending not to think about meeting her every five minutes. There were still a couple of hours before the time they’d set up to meet when she heard the doorbell.
“Hey, Lou!” Harry jumped on her, as soon as she opened the door, causing her to squeak, seeking balance. “Sorry I arrived too early, I was feeling anxious at home, I missed you so much!”
“It’s alright! I missed you too!” Louis kicked the door closed, leaning against the back of her sofa, Harry still in her arms. She held her tight, all be damned. “You can help me put up these bells I bought!”
“How cute!” Harry picked them up, shaking them around like a child. “But first! Your gifts! Open them now, I can’t wait!”
“Harriet, what do we tell you every year?” Louis placed both hands around her waist, ready to give a lecture.
“I don’t know why you still bother.” Harry waved her off, pushing two packages towards her. “Open it, then we can give Coconut her present too!”
Louis couldn’t help but melt over the neatly arranged packages before her. Harry was always so thoughtful; it was something magical to watch.
“Oh my god, I can’t believe it! Harriet, you shouldn’t have!” Louis held up the leather jacket in front of her. “It’s gorgeous! Must have cost a fortune, you idiot!” She punched her on the arm, incredulous.
“Ouch!” Harry yelled, but she was smiling so big Louis could swear she was brightening the whole room. “I saw you eying it every time we went to the mall. Now open the other one.”
Louis was still dumbfounded when she opened the smaller package, almost choking on her own spit when she looked inside. In a little heart-shaped box was every single shade of lipstick she’d borrowed from Harry so far, including the purple one she’d applied on Louis that very first night. Louis’ throat shut down. She literally couldn’t speak.
“Hey, I didn’t give this to you just so you wouldn’t borrow any more of my lipstick, ok?” Harry laughed nervously, probably trying to read the complete shock all over Louis’ face. “I just thought… Since you liked them so much… Louis? Oh god, I know makeup is totally not your thing, it was stupid, I-”
“No-no! Wasn’t stupid, Harry! It was perfect! You’re perfect! Thank you so much! I just… I don’t know what to say.” Louis managed to blurt out, small tears prickling behind her eyelids. God, she just wanted to tell her!
“Are you sure? Lou? What is it?” Harry looked seriously concerned now, her big green eyes filled with worry, and Louis knew, she just knew that if she opened her mouth to speak one more time-
“Oh, fuck it.”
Louis pulled Harry into a kiss before she could even finish her own line of thought. All she could hear was a low gasp before she got lost in the feeling she’d been dreaming about that whole fucking year, and so long before that if she was honest with herself. Harry’s lips felt as smooth as her lipstick always did, wet at first, then velvety right after, but the softness of it was far from doing justice to the experience Louis had had so far. Harry’s lips were red, purple, peach altogether, and she breathed into the kiss like she wanted to add more life to it than just the warmth from that silkiness alone.
It wasn’t long before Louis noticed that Harry was reciprocating, a bit lost on what was going on, but definitely there, present, letting Louis feel her lips with her tongue, slowly, as if she knew Louis needed it more than anything, before anything else.
Harry kept her mouth partially open, moaning almost inaudibly as Louis licked her bottom lip then bit it slightly, kissing back when Louis pressed their lips together for more, then staying still when Louis went back to just feeling her lips again, tracing the line of her upper lip with her own.
Louis was telling Harry without words that to feel the texture of her lips, to memorize the shape of her mouth, to get to know every line… That… That was essential to her.
Harry didn’t seem to mind that unusual kissing rhythm in the slightest, like she knew exactly what Louis craved for and wanted to give it to her. When Louis deepened the kiss, carefully touching Harry’s tongue with her own, as if the taste of almonds and apples and Harry wasn’t enough to take her to the moon and back, Harry’s gently cupped her face with both hands, gently humming into the kiss, as though she was about to dissolve.
Louis pulled her closer in an irrational fear of her disappearing right in front of her and all of this being nothing but a fever-induced dream, kissing sloppy and more desperately now. Harry went for it, mirroring her anxious attitude, pulling at Louis’ beat up denim jacket so there was not a single inch between them, and only when Louis’ hands slid on the back of Harry’s sheer black shirt and the tip of her index finger got caught under her black bra, she realized that had to be real. She moaned loudly when they pulled back almost simultaneously.
Harry looked like she had just had five glasses of wine and seemed distraught, to say the least. Her lips were dark red, but she wasn’t wearing any makeup, Louis knew that much.
‘That-“ She started, voice small.
“Harry, I’m so sorry!” Louis said, out of breath. Now she’d gone and done it. “I had no right to, I know you’re not into- I don’t- You were so nice, bringing me these gifts and I-“
“Lou! Lou!” Harry held her by the shoulder, trying to steady her, even though she wasn’t moving. “Shut the fuck up for a second, love.”
“Ok, sorry.” Louis said, looking down. She was drunk with want, but she also wanted to die. How could she have thought that had been a good idea? Even the most remote, incoherent, lovey-dovey part of her brain had to know that wasn’t ok under any circumstance.
She kept quiet while Harry seemed to be pondering on what had just happened, her face impossible to read.
“Is this why you kept borrowing my lipstick?” Harry asked all of a sudden.
“Oh god!” Louis covered her face with both hands, wanting to disappear off the face of the Earth. “Now you’ll think I’m a complete twat.”
“Wait? Was that really why? Because you wanted to kiss me?” Harry asked again in total disbelief, pulling one of Louis’ hands off her face. She looked a mixture of fluster and confusion. Louis didn’t look much better.
“I’m an idiot and I love you, Harry. Like, proper love you, you know. Lesbian love you.”
Harry opened her mouth, but thought better of it before saying anything. Instead, she got closer to Louis, holding both her hands. She closed her eyes, trying to steady her breath.
“I love you too, Lou.” She whispered in her ear.
Louis closed her eyes as well, that familiar ache shadowing over her heart. “I know you do, but-“
“No, I mean-“ Harry kept saying, taking Louis’ fingers to her lips. “I love you in a way you don’t have to borrow my lipsticks anymore.”
“What-?” Louis swallowed, feeling her head spin; she couldn’t possibly have processed that right. “Harry, what are you saying?”
“You are a bit deaf, aren’t you, Tommo?” Harry giggled, even though she seemed a little insecure herself. “I really want you to kiss me like that again.”
“But-but I thought you weren’t into girls.” Louis babbled, trying to understand why the hell she was still trying to rationalize it instead of just kissing Harry like she’d just asked her to.
“Well, I’m very into you. Have been for a couple of years, actually.” Harry blushed when she stated the last bit, looking down as a wave of embarrassment finally washed over her, and if that wasn’t the cue for Louis, she didn’t know what else could be.
She pulled Harry for another kiss, a short one this time, but long enough to get another tiny little moan from her, and god, if that wasn’t the hottest sound Louis had ever heard.
“I always want to kiss you, Harry.” Louis said, lips brushing against her mouth, feeling one of Harry’s hand back on her cheek, gentle but needy. “Fuck. I don’t even like wearing lipstick.”
“What?” Harry pushed her lightly. “I paid good money for these!”
“Sorry, sorry! I’ll wear them!” Louis answered quickly, placing little pecks on the corner of her mouth.
“No, you don’t even like them! It’s a waste of high brand makeup, I’ll keep them!” Harry said, laughing, searching for Louis’ mouth again as she spoke.
“And then I’ll borrow them.” Louis chuckled. Harry shook her head, smiling.
“Anytime.”