Don’t you love it when you want to get a haircut and literally everyone tells you that you look better with long hair or that the texture is not right or whatever other excuse?
So you end up getting something else bc there’s too much opposition about your specific preferences, but when you get the cut, you’re not that happy with it bc it’s not what you really wanted bc you wanted short hair…………
………..And then everyone is wondering why you’re not ecstatic about it????
Just wanna live in a cute lil victorian cottage in a lil whimsical forest with over grown plants and just sit outside to hear the sounds of the earth and admire the moon on warm nights with someone I love and put my hand on their knee idk
I love the undercover lovers trope for hartwin so hard. I love their pining as they play the roles of spouses or boyfriends or what have you, this is rock solid gold.
But, I want the pair of them to go on their undercover, play their parts perfectly in public, and think about it personally very little in private. They do their jobs and go back to their room at night and are so busy with surveillance, corresponding with merlin, setting up their traps or what have you and passing out like logs with no time to think of themselves and their pining.
They wake up in the mornings, go about their routines getting ready, weave around each other in the bathroom and synch up so smoothly, one brushing teeth while the other shaves, one reaching for something and the other handing it wordlessly, one doing his hair, and the other smoothing down the back of it where he can’t see it. doesn’t matter who does which.
The mission finishes with a resounding and efficient success and they go home.
Then they get home, get off the plane, and eggsy get’s harry’s luggage for him, follows him to the cab, follows him straight home and harry thinks nothing of it,
They go inside, Eggsy starts to unpack their bags and he stops dead.
There’s no space for him here. this is harry’s house, and he doesn’t share his closet, his bathroom, his bed, theres no spot for eggsy’s shoes or drawer space for his night clothes.
Harry is downstairs making tea and doesn’t find the oddness. Until thunking of luggage down the steps and a flustered and fumbling eggsy stumbles to the foyer with his suitcase.
The ruse only just broke and Harry is speechless as eggsy apologizes and laughs and leaves.
It was so natural for the both of them, its like a slap in the face to watch his door shut behind…who? what is eggsy exactly now?
Cue delayed weird awkward pining.
At HQ Eggsy doesn’t even know how he starts to hover, there are lapses in his sanity where he finds himself making Harry his tea and then handing it to him like the most natural thing in the world and then he freezes as Harry stares at his hand holding the saucer and its and Ohshit moment of what the fuck am i doing?
Harry can’t help the same reactions, he finds eggsy doing his report work and wordlessly goes to file and turn in his finished papers. He finds himself too many times in the seat by the fireplace of eggsy’s office before he knows whats going on, with a glass of scotch in hand waiting for him to finish his typing.
the two of them got so used to each other and their intimacy undercover they can’t (don’t want to) break the habits.