The Boxer

Chapter 6

GO BACK AND READ CHAPTER 5 BECAUSE IT'S BEEN CHANGED. K THANKS 

     It wasn't like Harry was purposely ignoring Cryssy. Nor was Cryssy trying to avoid Harry . It was simply that neither of them knew what to say to one another. The awkward was like a wall neither of them could break. So, they didn't bother trying. And this annoyed the hell of Louis. 

     Currently, Louis and Harry were at a tattoo shop. It was empty, seeing as Harry's tattoo artist was busy in the basement finding an appropriate ink color to use for Harry's latest tattoo. Louis was pestering Harry about the whole 'saving Cryssy' thing again, and Harry was ready to burst. He'd had enough of it all. The voices in his head thinking about Cryssy, the emotions he was debating along with the thoughts, and then there was  Louis, another constant reminder of her. He was in his own personal hell. 

     "And what do you want me to say, huh? I'm your hero, Cryssy! I love you! Hell no! I don't give a damn what she thinks or what you think she feels, " Harry growled. "You're fucking ridiculous Lou, you know that? I saved her and that's all she wants. Someone to save her ass. She's annoying, anyway, okay?" he spat. Harry was trying to come up with every excuse in the book not to speak to her now. Because now he knew why he'd saved her. Yet, he still refused to admit it. 

     "You're being ridiculous!"

     "Am I?" he seethed. 

     "Yeah! you're a big arse who can't control his damned temper, alright!"

     "Fuck you, Louis! You don't know shit, okay?!"

     "I do know I'm your only real god-damned friend, Harry! And you know it too! But, you've got your head so far up your ass, you can't tell who actually cares about you!"

     "I  know plenty!" Harry screamed. "I know no one cares about me, I know I'm alone, I know I'm a jerk and I know the only reason she even talks to me is because I did her a favor, but  to hell with it all!" Harry grabbed his shirt off the back of the tattooing chair and pulled it over his head, walking past an annoyed Louis on his way. He plowed through the front door and straight into someone on the sidewalk. He didn't bother apologizing until a familiar voice said. 

     "Hey, watch it, curly!" his eyes snapped to the voice's owner, her blue eyes swiping over him. He did the same, before watching her face again. 

     "Uh, sorry," he muttered. 

     "Are you okay?" Cryssy asked. Harry shrugged, holding his breath as she moved closer. She placed a hand on his cheek and examined his busted lip closely. "At least your lip looks better."      Harry nodded and snatched her hand off his face by her wrist. 

     "Yeah, look, I'll catch you later," he said, beginning to walk past her. 

     "Wait!" he stopped. "Louis said you have a match tonight?" Harry nodded slowly. 

     "Yeah."

     "Just making sure. See ya there?" he nodded once more before turning away and walking down the street. Not as awkward as I thought it'd be. 


~


     Cryssy felt beyond stupid as she walked down the hall. Paranoid that someone would ask her why she was here, she just attempted to look like she belonged. It worked, until she made it to the locker rooms, leaning up against the wall next to the doorway she listened. She could hear Harry and his coach talking . . . well more like arguing. She waited until a bulky man walked out the door and past her still form, then slid into the locker room. 

     Harry was sitting on the bench with his head in his hands. He was shirtless, so it made it easy to see every muscle lining his back and arms. Cryssy bit her lip at the thought of running a hand along those muscles and through his lush curls, reminding herself she didn't think of him that way.  "Harry?" she could see him visibly tense for a moment. 

     "How did you get in here?" he asked, not turning quite yet. 

     "It's not really hard, I mean security kinda sucks," she said. 

     "Obviously," he muttered, agreeing. "So, why are you here?" 

     "Just came to wish you good luck," she answered. Cryssy decided that after bumping into him on Friday, maybe she should show him a bit of faith. Maybe it'd change something in him. Maybe he'd get better . . . for Louis' sake. 

     "Thanks," he answered, pushing himself up and snatching his gloves off the bench next to where he was just sitting. She watched as he pulled them on and tied the end near his wrist to make sure they would stay on tight, then he turned to her. "I have to go." 

     "Well, good luck," she said. Harry nodded before walking past her. He heard a faint, "Be careful, Harry," and he turned back to look at her. She smiled softly, looking after him. "Try and come back not too damaged, eh?" Harry smirked.

     "I'll be just fine," he answered and walked out of the locker room. Something about the whole, 'be careful' thing made him feel weird. A good weird, he guessed. He just hadn't heard those words in a while. Someone caring just seemed alien to him. Then again, he reminded himself, she probably only thought of him as a damned body guard. 

     On the way out to the ring, the voice of the announcer filled the halls and bounced of the gray painted bricks Harry was forced to stare at until he was called to the ring. He listened to the details of his opponent. '250 pounds, 6'2, and from Liverpool UK. Kevin Mackin'. Seemed like a sizable opponent to Harry. Next, they called his height and weight, etc. out as he shoved his mouth guard between his lips and jogged out to the ring. The room was jam-packed with hundreds, screaming and cheering but he payed no mind as he slipped the ropes. 

     A nice applause rang through his ears as he hopped on the balls of his feet, glaring down at his opponent who was slightly shorter than himself. Matt amped him up from behind the ropes, giving him last minute advice and telling him to remember their new training. Harry merely nodded and shook off the dark blue robe with 'STYLES' printed on the back of it. Matt took it and hung it on the post as cameras flashed. This would surely be on tomorrow's front page. Harry didn't fight publicly very often, so, when he did, it was a big deal. 

     Cryssy watched from not far off, her arms crossed as she watched over Harry's motions. The way he would scan the crown once, then zero in on his match, like a lion hunting prey. Her heart started beating faster when the bell rang for the match to begin. Both men sized each other up and tested each other's weaknesses with quick jabs and punches. She tried hard not to gasp each time he got hit, but it was hard. She felt the worry seep out of her when he finally did get hit. A real hit. 

     Harry lurched backward by the force of it, quickly bringing his arms up to block himself from being hit again. Then, his body lurched forward and he tried to hit his target, missing by an inch and getting socked in the stomach. What was happening? Cryssy felt herself tensing and inching closer to the ring. Why was he being so careless? 

     He got hit again, this time right on the side of his face and he was knocked to the floor.