Malignant [h.s]

Thirty Four

I keep trying to stabilize my breath but it's so hard. That's the second time I've had that dream, but this one was worse, and they both star Mr. Harry Styles as the nightmare. It felt so real that I can't process my thoughts properly.

I look at the clock and see that's it's 4:30 in the morning. I throw the covers off my perspiring body and sling my feet over the bed to meet the floor.

I just need a glass of water. I feel like I'm overheating from the visual trauma I just witnessed in my dream moments ago. Damn I wish I could go outside- like legit outside. All I need is fresh air.

I walk quietly to my door and open it out into the hallway. I see a small beam of light come from the left of the hallway and I quickly come to realize it's from Harry's door open slightly.

I arch my brow while walking towards the stroke of light. His light is on so that means he's awake- but why would he be awake at 4:30am?

I get to the door and open it a crack more to see him on the ground, doing push-ups. His shirt is missing as usual and he wears a pair of black basketball shorts with the band of his boxer peaking through at the top.

I stand there and watch him for some unknown reason. I watch his muscled contract and detract while glimmering with sweat. His back muscles are definitely a beautiful feature on him. Nothing makes a guy look more attractive then the muscles on his back, and Harry had a lot of them. Sitting on his back was his long chain with the 'M' pendant.

I smile while leaning against the door frame- watching him inhale and exhale sharply through his push ups.

"Can I help you with something?" He says without even looking over at me. My stomach turns and I suddenly feel very awkward knowing that he knows I am watching him. I wasn't trying to be creepy but I can understand why he would think that.

"Oh- um sorry. No I just couldn't sleep so I got up to get water..." I clear my throat.

I quickly turn around and start walking away before I make this any more awkward.

"Amelia wait." He says just loud enough for me to hear. I stop in my tracks and turn back around. Slowly coming back to the light from his bedroom. He sees me come back and looks over at me. "Can you sit on my back please?" He states and I look at him questionable.

He wants me to sit on his back?

"Why?" I ask out of curiosity.

"Because just doing push ups with my own weight is getting to easy." He mumbles while sitting up and wiping the sweat off his forehead and body with an old shirt.

"Alright." I huff and walk into his room. He gets back into the push up position and I gently crawl on his back, sitting cross legged and holding on by his muscular shoulders.

He starts to coursing up and down while I sit pleasantly on him. I honestly can't believe he can do this with his and my weight- it's quite impressive.

I watch him go up and down at a rhythm, realizing he was a machine. I just wanted to run my hands across his jagged back but I knew I couldn't.

"Do you do this every morning?" I ask.

"Usually, yeah." He murmurs.