The Boxer

Chapter 10

     When she exited the bathroom, Cryssy immediately spotted Harry pacing back and forth next  to his bed. No shirt and  a pair of sweats on, his cell pressed up against his ear as he fought with whoever was on the other line. His eyebrows were knit together as he glared at the floor. He walked on, occasionally raking a hand through his mess of chocolate brown curls. His emerald eyes momentarily caught Cryssy's when he heard her exit the bathroom, but he went back to pacing seconds later. She sighed, and walked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, deciding maybe if she made breakfast, Harry would be in a better mood. 

~

    "Look Matt, I don't need any recovery time. It was one fucking fight, alright? I'm fine and I'll be in the gym later," Harry hissed angrily into his mobile.

    "Harry, no you're not. You're staying home and resting after that blow to the head. Now, stop being a twat and just fucking rest! Dan said you need a good rest after seeing that fight, and I agree. You have a week off, so rest, and possibly get a life, yeah?" Harry grunted, hanging up on Matt and throwing his cell onto the soft cushion of the bed since he couldn't throw it at the wall without it smashing to pieces and having to buy another. Harry's  hands raked through his curls angrily, tugging a few strands out of pure frustration with himself. He just had to fuck up the fight, and they just had to be fucking pricks about it. Now, he had nothing to let his anger out on but his fucking pillows.

    Deciding on a shower, Harry stripped off in his bedroom and grabbed some clothes from the drawers. Cryssy had wandered off, but it wasn't like he'd care if she saw him naked, anyway. Fifteen minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom and picked up the smell of bacon and pancakes through his nose. Following it, he found Cryssy laying out two plates in the kitchen. Eggs, bacon, pancakes and some orange juice were all being neatly arranged on the two plates in front of her. Harry leaned against the doorframe, watching her. He'd always found a woman who cooked attractive, and one that could cook well even more so. And there was no doubt in his mind Cryssy was fucking HOT. 


Cryssy's P.O.V.

    There was a cough from somewhere to my left and I let my eyes trail over to where Harry watched me, arms crossed and his lean body propped up against the doorway.

     "Hello," I said before turning back to the plates. I pushed the last of the eggs onto Harry's plate and shoved the pan in the sink before tugging out some forks from where I learned Harry kept them and slid two onto our plates. "Breakfast?" Harry shrugged and waltzed over. I swear, he looked like a fucking super model as he pushed himself off the doorframe, his hip jutted out slightly and skin exposed a little from his t-shirt riding up. His long legs giving him a lankiness I found undoubtedly attractive. 

    God, I need to stop thinking like that. 

    We didn't move to the dining room table, but rather stood at the counter and ate from there. About five minutes into a comfortable silence other than the scraping of our forks, I decided to ask. "So, who was on the phone?" Harry raised his eyebrows a little in almost a sarcastic eye roll and swallowed his food.

    "It was Matt being a git," he muttered. "Hes trying to get me off for a week cause of my head. Doesn't believe I'm fucking fine," he huffs. I nodded understandingly. 

    "Well, I mean, I kind of agree. You got hit pretty hard; maybe you should take a break." Harry definitely rolled his eyes that time. 

    "Well, if I get mad, I hope you don't mind a few broken walls and a few broken knuckles." I sighed. 

    "Harry, you, like, need to calm down," I half laughed. "You're always this ball of fire ready to go off in any way possible. It's ridiculous." 

    "Well, sorry I'm not perfect," Harry spat.

    "No one's perfect, you twat."

    "Say's Miss Goody-two-shoes," he muttered, shoving another bite of eggs between his lips. I dropped my fork onto the plate with a loud clank and glared at him.

    "Don't call me that Harry," a sudden smirk appeared on his lips. 

    "What? Good? A suck up? Maybe a little kiss ass?" I let out a little shriek of anger. 

    "Do you get off on making me annoyed or something?" I hissed. "Cause you're a fucking prick!" Harry laughed loudly and deeply from low in his chest. 

    "Guess I'm not the only one who's a little ball of fire, eh?" I glared. 

    "You're an ass." He shrugged and stuffed another bite in his mouth. 

    "Oh well," he answered with a full mouth of pancake and bacon. I cringed, crinkling my nose in the process. 

    "Gross."

    "You still think I'm hot," he said, turning back to his food. I felt my cheeks color just the slightest .

    "If only you weren't a dickhead," I replied. 

    "Yeah, well, you can be a bitch too, so I guess we're even." I scowled at him, lips pursped and eyebrows knitted together. 

    "Well, at least I have manners," I spat, words just as harsh as I intended them to be. 

    "Oh, I've got manners," he said. "I just rather not waste them on pointless encounters." My fists clenched and I tried to bite the inside of my lips to hold back any words, but it didn't work. 

    "God, Harry, I can't stand you!" I yelled, leaving my plate on the counter and walking to the bar to grab my phone. I needed to call Louis to come pick me up before I strangled him. 

    "Likewise, babe," He snapped, sarcastically calling me babe. I just really wanted to punch him. Why did everything have to end in a fight between us? I  mean for fuck's sake! We never do anything else!

    "Screw you," I hissed, before turning on my heels and dialing Lou's number. He picked up on the second ring, but instead of stopping outside the door, I decided to walk to the nearest gas station and told him to meet me there He didn't question it, and for that I was thankful. I was too angry to form proper words at the moment, anyway. 

    Louis had just pulled in when I made it to the gas station. I hopped into his car and closed the door with a sigh, resting my head on the car's banister. It was silent for a moment as the car began to creep forward and the curiosity that was Louis Tomlinson seeped through his mouth. 

    "So, uh, what happened?" he asked, trying to sound casual. "I mean, like, why were you at the gas station?"

    "I was at Harry's." It was silent for awhile, so I decided to look over at  Louis because normally he'd be shooting out questions a mile a minute. His eyes were wide as if he were shocked. 

    "Really?" he breathed. 

    "Erm, yeah.  You okay?" He nodded.

    "It's just, like, I've known him forever, and he's never brought me to his house. Like, he never brings anyone there, Cryssy." My lips formed a pout. I moved my gaze towards the window and began watching the rain that had just begun to drizzle down from the dark clouds overhead. I had just missed the rain by a little. 

    "Well, I mean, he would've gotten a concussion if he didn't have someone to take him to the hospital, but he dosen't like the hospital, so I was kind of the only in between." 

    "But did he know he would have gotten a concussion? Did he know you're a nurse in training?" I frowned.

    "No . . . but-"

    "Cryssy, you can't deny it now. He feels something for you. Something more than his own best friend. And whatever it is . . . maybe you can use it to bring him back, you know? Like, as a person 'cause he operates like a fucking machine that's either angry or horny all the damn time. He needs someone to take care of him." 

    "Lou, I'm not that person," I answered, even though my mind had drifted back to when I nearly left last night and, when I came bac,k he told me he needed me. 

    "Cryssy-"

    "No, Lou. Every time we talk, we end up fighting!" Louis sighed.

    "Okay, how did you stay at his house last night?" 

    "Actuall,y we fought and I almost left," I snapped. 

    "And what made you come back?" bastard, I thought.. 

    "He called."

    "And?"

    "Asked me to come back." 

    "And?"

    "Damnit Lou- he said he needed me when I got there. He apologized and told me he knew he was being a prick, but he needed me, okay?"

    "See?" Louis smiled. 

    "No, no I don't, because the second he stopped needing me, he didn't give two shits if I left, so stop fucking acting like you know what's going on," I cried. We had made it back to my place and I threw my door open, slamming it behind me. I didn't mean to attack Louis that way, it's just, I get so irritated with him prying this way when it comes to Harry. He didn't deserve to get yelled at . . .

    Maybe i was just as bad as Harry with my anger . . .

~

    Walking into the gym felt weird. It wasn't the one Harry normally went to;I wanted to avoid both him and anyone else from the fight two days ago. It was still a nice gym, though. There were more people because it wasn't as professional as the one Harry went to. This one was more for people like myself. So, with a water bottle in one hand and my iPod strapped to my hips, I walked over to the treadmills. I put it on high enough for running and slipped my ear buds in. It was nice for a while, until from across the gym, I spotted the one and only curly headed pain-in-my-ass going at it on a punching bag. His spotter looked like he was getting pumbled trying to keep the bag from going too far with how hard Harry hit. I diverted my gaze and it worked for a while, until I decided I wanted to see what he was doing now and our eyes met. He was watching me and I felt like I was going to loose my balance so I glared down at my toes. My eyes occasionally flickered up and then I saw him again. Walking over to me. 

    Oh, fuck.