Strings Attached (Harry Styles FanFiction)

8. Hands Off

(Picture of Stirling in the sidebar!)

Cassie’s POV:

Dammit, London was cold. As we ran my lungs felt like someone had lit a fire in my chest and then poured kerosene on it. Every time I took a breath a puff of white steam shot out in the air in front of me. 

Gritting my teeth, I ignored the chime of my phone through the earbuds, the text message notification blocking out my music. The small device bounced up and down with every labored step. Whoever it was, they could wait. Shaking my head, I pushed on, forcing myself to catch my roommate. 

My legs began to buckle as we hit the fifth kilometer mark. I waved at Gwen to slow down. I had never really been much of a distance runner and each day she pushed us farther and farther. She rolled her eyes but slowed down to a light jog.

“What, are we training for a marathon?” I puffed, coming up beside her.

“Exercise is good for you!” She crowed, poking my stomach. I winced, the muscles already burning from overuse.

“You owe me a burger later.”

“Thought you didn’t eat meat?” She teased.

“Fine, a pizza. Nice and artery clogging.”

“Deal.” She grinned at me before taking off again, bounding up ahead of me.

Smiling to myself, I rolled my eyes. Punching a button on my phone, I turned my music up. Rizzle Kicks pulsed through the ear buds, my mind buzzing. Again my phone rang, drowning out the energizing music. I waited in vain for the music to resume but the tone continued to play. Someone was calling me. There was only one person who insisted on calling me anymore and I had no desire to talk to him. Biting the inside of my cheek I punched the controls on my earbuds, sending the caller to voicemail, pushing all thoughts of him out of my mind.

Fifteen minutes later Gwen pulled up to a stop, folding in half to stretch her hamstrings. I wheezed my way up beside her, arms held high above my head, willing my stolen breath to return to my lungs.

“You know, if you quit eating like rubbish you would probably be in better shape,” Gwen laughed, not bothering to look up at me, “That or a little shag every once in a while, keeps ya young.” Rolling my eyes, I slumped to the ground, coercing my burning muscles into cooperation. 

Gwen turned to stare at the shop behind us, “Ha, what a bloody joke,” She scoffed. Curious as to what caught her attention, I hauled myself to my feet.

We had stopped in front of a media shop and all of the TV’s in the store were set to play a steady loop of the most popular music videos that week. My ears were assaulted by sugary strains of pop music, effeminate male voices blaring from the speakers. I rolled my eyes as the camera shifted angles, displaying the singers one by one. I swear my jaw hit the cement. Familiar jade eyes bore into mine through the flimsy TV monitor.

“What. The. Fuck.” I pushed through the glass doors, stalking up to the first worker I saw. Her bleach blonde hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, dark brown roots an inch thick. She was chatting with another woman, smiling and nodding politely.

“Excuse me,” I interrupted, not bothering to wait for her to finish helping the woman.

“I’m sorry! I’m a bit busy right now, Give me two minutes and I’ll be more than happy to help you!” Her cheery voice grated my ears and I glared at her, tapping the toe of my running shoes as the woman thanked her and headed towards the cash register.

“How may I help you?” She cooed, flashing me a plastered on smile.

“Save the act,” I huffed, my eyes clued to the curly haired boy on the screen. The video ended, switching to whatever Justin Bieber’s latest hit was. I turned away from the screen, rolling my eyes.