Harry Styles Long Hair Photoshoot Novels & Stories

He didn't pick the clothes; he just stood back and watched as I picked silk blazers and heels that felt like weapons. Then we went to a salon. The stylist looked at my blunt, dead hair and sighed. “We can’t make it long overnight,” she said. “Don't make it long,” Alexander said from the chair behind me. “Make it sharp. Make it look like it belongs to a woman who doesn't take orders.” When I looked in the mirror, I didn't see the ghost anymore. My hair was a sleek, angled bob that hit my jaw like a blade. My eyes looked darker, colder.

“We won’t shorten your length but seriously, when was the last time you got a trim?” Anastasia paused, trying to remember the last time she visited a salon. It felt like ages. Meanwhile, the stylist worked her magic by giving Anastasia’s long, dark, wavy hair layers that fell beautifully into a V shape almost reaching her lower back. The front was styled with long bangs that framed her face and was enhancing her features.

Luckily, I had not given it to him. Sometimes, it was better to have a backup plan. Hayden drove me there and helped me with my suitcase. After that, he accompanied me to get a haircut. I went to a salon that Sophie regularly visited. Apparently, the stylist there worked with celebrities. Sophie’s short haircut looked good. As I sat in the chair and looked at my long hair in the mirror, I thought about how soon this hair would be gone. I had kept it for nearly ten years. Since Zach did not like curls or dyes, I kept my hair long and straight. I never colored it either. I was so tired of this plain style that I wanted a change.

He gave Shaun a distinctly lascivious look, telling her exactly why he wanted to get her alone. Shaun laughed and turned her chair back to the mirror, picking up a nearby comb. She was relieved Jozef had sent the hair stylist away. She much preferred her own style over the smooth and straight version the man was trying to give her. She teased her hair until she got it exactly right. When she finished, it stood several inches out from her head in perfect symmetry all the way around.

Harry, now my personal assistant and one of my closest confidants, did his best to ease my nerves. “Don’t worry, sir,” Harry replied with his usual calm demeanor. “You’ve got this. Tonight, you’ll show everyone who you truly are.” I stood before the mirror, adjusting my perfectly tailored navy suit. The fabric draped flawlessly over my broad shoulders, the crisp white shirt providing a sharp contrast, and the silk tie adding a touch of sophistication. Running a hand through my neatly styled hair, I ensured every strand was in place. My long hair, once a hallmark of mine, was now gone, replaced by a clean, modern cut. The pocket square and elegant watch were the final touches, completing my c

That was final. She looked at herself in the mirror as the stylist examined her hair. She hadn't had it cut in years (saving her limited money) and it was extremely long. Too long. That said, she didn't want it all cut off. It was a beautiful chestnut color, slightly wavy, soft, and she preferred it long. The stylist had suggested a short bob but she asked for it to reach her mid back. Catherine had backed her up and the stylist finally agreed. She was beginning to work on it and Lucy was comforted to see the limited amount she was removing.

I gazed past my friends and saw a remarkably transformed Harold. He had undergone a thorough makeover; dressed in fresh clothes, clean-shaven, and his previously matted and unkempt dark hair had turned into a lustrous cascade of curls. It became evident why my mother had been attracted to him.

Two hours passed and Harriet is ready to bring down this beauty palace. "What the hell did you do to my hair? Where are my edges? This looks horrible." She screamed, tugging at the extreme end of the black silly weavon. "You said you wanted a style that will cover the baldness of your front hair." The fair-skinned stylist raised her hands in gesticulation. "It is your entire head that will be bald." Harriet spat with nose flared in anger and irritation. "I'm sorry ma'am, but I just did what you told me to do." The stylist frowned.

With each step, the skirt swirled around him, showcasing his confidence and individuality. His shoulder-length hair was expertly gathered and styled into a sleek, low bun at the nape of his neck. Each strand was carefully smoothed back, accentuating the natural shine and texture of his locks. A few loose tendrils framed his face delicately, adding a touch of softness to the overall look. Luke stood out effortlessly, a true embodiment of style and grace amidst the gala's elite.

Led me straight to a private station. "Do whatever you want to her hair," he told the stylist. Then he leaned down, lips brushing my ear. "But keep it long. I like pulling it when I fuck you." The words were so quiet only I heard them. My knees nearly buckled. I sat in the chair staring at my reflection while the stylist washed, trimmed split ends, deep-conditioned, and styled my hair into long, glossy waves that fell past my shoulders. When she finished, I looked... expensive. Radiant. Like someone Mateo would want on his arm.