Steal Me ( A Harry Styles Fanfic)

Punch His Pretty Little Face

Song of the Chapter: Hurricane by Halsey

Emma's POV

Ever since I was a kid, boxing was my thing. My parents had theirs which was an unethical profession but whatever we're not get into that right now. My brother was either with them or living in his room with a guitar. Mom didn't exactly approve of my hobby, she wanted me to learn and carry on their legacy. Dad, on the other hand, convinced her since I didn't like going with them on their job, the second best would be learning how to fight.

It was not exactly an approval but it was good enough for me to do my best and kick ass.
I've spent all my childhood either reading or fighting, which was a contradiction believe me I know.

They both exhilarted me though.

Boxing wasn't supposed to be my main proffesion but it pays the bills.
And that's why I'm stuck with busting up pretty boy here.

I can't exactly leave him unscathed, and even though I don't exactly like him I can't hurt him either.

He doesn't know who I am though, so maybe a few punches could knock his ego down a notch.

Guess he won't be able to win Mr. USA in a beauty pageant after this.

Harry gets into the ring obviously unprepared.
And even though my silver engraved mask with a single black feather on the side is covering almost all my face, I could swear I saw recognition in his eyes when he glanced at me.

The presenter gives him some worn-out blue gloves, and he looks at me with the confidence of an MMA fighter.

Ugh boys.

As soon as they see that they're fighting a chick, they get all confident.
The bell rings and I throw in my first punch without him even noticing what was happening.
He takes a few steps back, obviously surprised.

Babe, please.
I wasn't born yesterday.

He tries to attack me, throwing a punch in my stomach but I defend myself with almost zero effort, and instead I punch him in his little emerald eyes.

Damn, that's gonna be huge bruse for him to hide.

Vincent grabs a breathe and then tries to lunge at me from behind which resulted with me grabbing his arm, throwing him in front of me, and jumping straight on him.
He's under me now, and the presenter starts counting to 10.

I'm not supposed to touch him if he's down but my hands are on his shoulders.

He's breathing in and out.

I can almost hear his heart pumping in his chest.
It's weird because I could almost hear mine too.

I could swear that they were dancing to the same rythem.

I could swear that our hearts knew each other from a long time and are reconnecting now.

I could swear that in this single momment filled with the rough crowd and the moist air felt like it was just us.
There's only us in the whole wide world.

I could swear that the spark between us just

Ignited.

The best thing about it? He looks just as dazed out as I am, when the counting comes to a stop.

I remove my hands from his shoulders, but I'm still sitting on his hips.
And even though I want to.
I can't move.

He looks at me for what seems like a while and finally says
"You obviously enjoy winning, but you don't have to rub it in any longer"

And that's how, ladies and gentelmen, you ruin a perfect momment.

By freakin talking.

"Pfft asshole." I say as I get up.

The presenter announces me as a winner and raises my hand up as the crowd cheers.
I know they're all a bunch of drunken idiots but it does feel good to hear them chanting my name.

Well, not exactly my name but whatever.

I'm not in the mood today so I head straight to the lockers when the chanting died down.
The room constantly reeks of aftershave and sweat, by now however, every player is gone which leaves me by myself to take a shower.

I take a while to get out just in case if someone else was here they'd leave by now. I wear my towel and head to my locker when I find a particulary annoying guy sitting on the bench in front of me.
I gasp because shit can't I get rid of him?
" I knew it was you"