Harry Styles Aesthetic Novels & Stories

"Harry! I almost hit you. Don't ever sneak up on me like that." "I'm sorry. I didn't want to call your name in front of everyone." I noticed something on his face, "what the hell, Harry! You shaved?" Harry's jaw, which was once filled with hair, was now clean shaved, and I think it suits him. He looks younger. "I decided to try something new." He said as he strokes his bare jaw. His face turned sour as he sniffed the air. "You smell different today." I didn't know how to answer that, so I kept quiet, trying to think of something else to say, but he beat me to it. "Where are you going to go dressed up like this?" He said, pointing at my dress and shoes.

He billowed around in a white gown and stopped next to Teddy, putting a hand on his shoulder. Teddy craned his neck around to look up at him as he stood, eyes closed, a mountain of hair and gown. Gorham’s hairstyle could best be described as ‘interesting’. On top, was a bundle of greying, bouncy curls, at the back of which hung long, straight, teased, and dry strands which rounded out like a platypus tail. It clearly needed an enormous amount of maintenance. It reminded Teddy of the over-the-top hairstyles of some 1980s popstars.

Hector pointed at himself. She patted his shoulder and said, “Hector, having a good taste is a great skill as well. After all, men and women have very different perspectives when it comes to fashion. You can precisely distinguish what kind of jewelry is suitable for girls, and it's a waste if you don't become a stylist.” “I don't know how to do makeup and styling,” Hector said with his mouth pouted.

On one page, I saw a boy gazing at a river, his face reflecting deep sorrow. Eventually, Ace paused at a drawing of a woman with her back turned, her hair styled in an updo. What struck me was the attention to detail – the way the light highlighted her hair, which stood out against the shaded parts of the drawing. I realized her hairstyle was unique in this town, where brown and black hair were the norm. She wore an edgy outfit, complete with a leather jacket and a skirt, reminiscent of my punk-inspired style.

As if they were still here, even if it happened decades ago. The noblewomen of the same age as Harriet and Harriet's mother no longer did overnight styling as the current trend was to style their hair in a neat bun. Overnight Styling would produce beautiful wavy hair, but the hair would flow freely, just like statues and old works of art from decades ago showed. Harriet's heart was warm. Sometimes, with Liam, she felt like she was traveling through time. After he finished combing Harriet's hair, Liam took a white scarf from the table he had prepared and started to roll it with Harriet's hair. He lifted the roll over Harriet's head so as not to disturb her sleep, and tied it tightly, without

Private rooms, champagne service, stylists who charged more per hour than most people made in a week. "I want her hair darker," Ares told the stylist, running his fingers through my brown locks in a way that made me shiver. "Rich chocolate, to bring out her eyes. And longer - extensions if necessary." Gods, I felt like I was getting a sexy head massage. "Don't I get a say in this?" I asked, though my voice came out breathier than I intended. His touch was doing things to me that I desperately wanted to ignore. "No," he said simply, his hand still tangled in my hair. "You wanted to look like you belong in their world. Trust me to get you there."

The moment he stood up, and I saw his face I scowled. Harry! As usual, he had a devious grin on his wicked lips. I extended my hand in order to take the phone from him but he stepped back. I roll my eyes in annoyance. He licked his lips, then bit them seductively. Trying his best to be sexy, but obviously it wasn't working. He ran his hand through his messy hair. You can never see him and his hair is properly brushed down. He would be so intriguing if he wasn't so revolting! He's like that one person you find completely attractive, until you meet their fucked up personality.

I looked like a ghost of a dead woman. "Start with the hair," I commanded, pointing toward the salon section at the back of the boutique. The stylist looked hesitant when I told him what I wanted, but one look at the black card in my hand silenced any objections. I watched as inches of my chestnut hair fell to the floor. I traded the soft waves for a sharp, asymmetrical bob that grazed my jawline. It was jagged, edgy, and entirely modern—the opposite of Kate's timeless elegance. I told them to strip the natural warmth out of it. We went with a cool, icy platinum that made my eyes look piercing and distant.

She had her hair tied up in a bun, but that revealed her dainty, slender neck and smooth skin. Harry couldn’t get his eyes off her hands. He was the oldest of the brothers, in his late forties, and had a perfect mix of white and black colours in his hair. His eyes were fixed on Penny Jensen’s fingers as she moved and waved them around while answering the questions. He noticed she sat at the edge of the sofa, kept her knees pressed together and flushed whenever his eyes moved down to her beautiful legs.

The girls excitement was to see if he was one of the hot ones to hook up, while guys on the other hand were excited to see which gang he would join, considering the rumours also mentioned him to be one of the high class. "What do you think will he look like? Will he have red flaming hairs with green eyes?" Sam asked with a girlish giggle, while the others joined in. "Or sandy blond wavy locks with ocean blue eyes!" "Are you dreaming of Harry Styles?" Riley asked incredulously to Christi, who looked baffled. "Harry Styles doesn't have sandy blond hairs! Get it together!" While the girls bickered on, Sam turned her attention to Agatha, who was busy scrolling through her I*******m. "What do yo