“Noooo, not like that. Up. Swing literally like you’re making a backwards “J” or a hook with the glove.” Harry did the motion himself. All I could see were his muscles and bare torso. He held the pad on his hand up just above my head and nodded at me. Today, Harry thought it would be funny to take one of my bandanas (not the red one, he knew it was my favorite) and tie it around his head like I always did. The horrible thing about it was that he looked incredibly sexy and I was having a hard time not staring.
I swung upward and hit the mitt, stopped, and grinned, definitely pleased with myself. Harry didn’t allow me to be proud for too long before lowering his mitt in front of his chest. “Jab!”
I threw my fist forward, a loud slap emitting from the collision of my (well, Harry’s) glove and his mitt.
“Up again!” He yelled, raising the mitt above my head. “Now side!” He held out the mitt to his side. I could feel myself beginning to sweat and breathe more heavily as I threw punches. Who knew boxing could be such a workout? Harry spent all afternoon in the gym with me, teaching me the basics and insisting that I try out a few moves on him. He let me use his gloves, which were entirely too large for my hands. I was struggling more to keep them on than to actually punch wherever he was holding the mitts. “Jab!” He yelled again, holding the mitt in front of his chest. I tiredly threw my fist at him, accidentally missing the mitt and hitting upward at his face. He stumbled backward and leaned against one of the mirrors, laughed, and slid down the mirror to his butt.
“Are you okay??” I asked worriedly as he covered his face.
“I’ve just been bopped in the nose,” He laughed through his hands. “Where were you punching? I thought you said your aim was good.”
I frowned and rushed over to him. “With knives, Harry. My aim is good with knives. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” I asked, placing my hand on his and trying to move it from his face so I could see the injury. He groaned and rolled his head away from me, but I could see a small grin on his face that let me know he wasn’t hurt at all.
He chuckled when he saw my un-amused expression and leapt to his feet, extending his hand down to me to help me up too. “Let’s just switch to the bag for a minute.” He pulled me to my feet directly in front of him and gazed down at me for a moment. I would be lying if I told you that the air between us wasn’t tense, especially taking into account what happened the last time Harry and I were in the gym together. I could see memories of it flashing through Harry’s mind as he watched my body in the mirrors while I punched at the bag hanging from the ceiling.
“Remember to keep this tight,” he said, interrupting my punches to place his hand on my abdomen and the sides of my hips. “Don’t twist so much,” he said a little more closely to my ear. Goosebumps went down my spine and covered my arms.
“Are you cold?” Harry asked.
I spun to face him and shook my head quickly. “I just- I need water.”
Harry smiled and reached for my arms. He helped me undo the gloves and gently slid them off of my hands, dropping them on the floor once my hands were free. “Let’s go,” he said, putting an arm around my shoulders and leading me back to the kitchen. Once there, we both got a drink and stood across the kitchen from each other, guzzling down the water but also peering at each other through the bottom of our clear glasses.
“Dinner?” Harry suggested.
“Whatcha want?”
Harry shrugged. “The um… well…”
I raised my eyebrow and smirked. I knew exactly what was coming. While I waited for Harry to spit it out, I crossed my arms, popped my hip, and tapped my foot.
Harry laughed. “Look, K. Don’t get mad.”
“Just tell me,” I sighed, lowering my gaze at him.
Harry rubbed the back of his neck. “That shrimp and grits…”
I sighed. “I knew you liked it. I knew it all along.”
Harry beat on the counter with his hands. “I promise, I won’t send any dishes back again. All of your food is pretty amazing.”
I nearly dropped the shrimp I was getting from the fridge. I knew Harry liked some of my food, but not all of it. The back of my neck got hot as the compliment swirled through my brain.
“You know,” Harry started once he had drunk all of his water. “I’ve never taught a girl to fight. I mean, I’ve actually never taught anyone to fight.”
I blushed and tossed the shelled shrimp into a pan, dousing them with lemon. “Well I’m honored. You’re a good teacher, Mr. Styles.”
Harry grinned. “You’re a good student, Miss Davenport.”
“And I-“ Louis interrupted, appearing by the bar and slapping his phone onto it. “-have found you a good fight. Harry, what the hell is on your head?”
Harry frowned. “A bandana.”
Louis glanced to me. I shrugged.
“Is the fight a fair fight?” I asked.
Louis raised an eyebrow. “Yes, a fair one. To be honest, I was about to go for Niall but he’s out of the country, so instead I got Mateo Wallis.”
“Oh, good!” Harry nodded. “I haven’t fought him in a long while. I like him.”
I giggled. “I still don’t understand how you can be friends with the people you fight. ‘Oh sorry, Mate, didn’t mean to break your nose. Let’s catch a movie later this week.’ Like what the hell?”
My imitation of Harry’s deep British accent had both Louis and Harry rolling with laughter. Maria appeared by the bar and sat down beside Louis. “Dinner?” She asked, looking at the pan.
“Shrimp and grits,” I told her. “Want some?”
She nodded. So did Louis.
It seemed like everyone was in a surprisingly pleasant mood as the night went on. We ate together and actually talked about the fight against Mateo and how Harry thought it would go. Maria told us about her brother and how he used to fight, but tore some ligament in his arm and can’t fight anymore. We sat on the couch and watched America’s Next Top Model reruns, laughing at the comments that Harry and Louis would make about outfits and hairstyles. Maria asked to do my hair at one point and braided it into something she called a “fishtail braid,” which I had seen before but never thought to try doing on my own. It looked nice. Harry even told me himself. Maria seemed unusually relaxed and I couldn’t help but wonder if she had taken some sort of drugs. If there was ever a place to do drugs, I was convinced it was in this house. No one came here. There were so many hidden nooks and crannies around the house that you could hide your biggest secrets and no one would ever find them.
It was ten o’clock by the time I convinced myself to get off of the couch and go to sleep. Louis gave me a kiss on the cheek and a hug. Harry walked me to the stairs by my room and gave me a hug. I felt like he started to lean down and give me a peck on the cheek, but stopped and simply nodded at me instead. That was disappointing to say the least, but what did I expect him to do? Sweep me off my feet and carry me down into my room where we can have sex all night? Actually, yes. That is what I expected.
At about 3 in the morning, I woke up with a pressure on my bladder. I forced myself out of bed and into the bathroom with my eyes closed managed to make it to the toilet to pee without the lights on. As I sat and waited, I heard a groan. Am I dreaming? I waited a moment. I heard another groan. It wasn’t coming from my room though. Was it from the floor above me? I pulled up my underwear and pulled at the bottom of my oversized tee as I crept up the stairs. The groaning was becoming louder and more frequent as I reached the top of the stairs. What if someone was in the house? I scurried back down the stairs to my room and grabbed the knife that I usually keep in my purse. With that and Harry’s training today, I felt like I could take on anyone or anything that came at me… however, I was a little sore already. My legs began to shake as I tip-toed up the stairs again toward the moaning and crept into the kitchen. I flipped on a light and shrieked when I spotted Louis at the bar.
He raised a finger to his lips and shushed me. A louder, more fierce moan echoed around the kitchen and living room space… but it wasn’t Louis. It was Harry. “Turn off the light,” Louis breathed, flicking his hand down as if he was turning off the light himself. I obliged.
“Is he okay?” I whispered, looking up at the dark balcony above us. Louis shook his head and patted the seat beside him at the bar. His body shook as he chuckled noiselessly when I put my knife on the table in front of me.
“Were you going to stab someone?” He whispered.
I shrugged. “I didn’t know what the hell was going on.”
“Did that wake you?” Louis asked when Harry moaned again. Now, closer to him, I could hear Harry tossing and turning in his bed.
“I got up to pee, heard him moaning.”
Louis nodded slowly and took a sip of whatever he was drinking.
“Is he having a bad dream?” I whispered impatiently. I just wanted Louis to spit it out at this point.
Louis nodded. “It happens almost every night.”
“What?”
Harry growled and mumbled something that I couldn’t make out. He pounded the bed with his fist of kicked it with his foot.
Louis sighed. “Look, I don’t know what all Harry revealed of his family to you.”
“He just told me about his mom. How she left.”
Louis sighed again and ran his fingers through his hair. “But did he tell you why?”
I hesitated. “No.”
I sat back in my seat and waited for the explanation. Louis sighed, yet again. “Harry’s mum left because of his dad. Harry’s father was pretty abusive. Got kicked out of his own boxing league when he was young because of something to do with an illegal fight or something – Harry never really explained it. His father just would beat the absolute shit out of Harry to make sure he became the best, if that makes sense. His mom would just watch. Never did anything to try and stop Harry’s dad. One day, she just left. Couldn’t handle it anymore. Harry kept training to box because that’s all he knew to do. The bigger he got, the harder it became for Harry’s father to beat him, but by that point, Harry was already mentally fucked.”
“Holy shit, Louis,” I breathed. I couldn’t imagine anyone ever beating Harry. I remembered that I slapped him the other day and my heart shriveled in my chest.
“That’s why he and I left and came here. I mean, my mum knows where I am. We talk often. She’s like Harry’s mum, but he doesn’t talk to her much,” Louis whispered.
A deep growl came from Harry’s room and he pounded the bed again. I winced as I listened and almost felt my eyes water. “He’s dreaming of his dad?”
Louis nodded.
“Can’t you help him?” I asked, my voice wavering as I spoke and tried to hold back my tears. I don’t know why it hurt me as much as it did to hear a thing like that. Honestly, I always felt a bit bad for myself, but Harry had a much worse situation than I ever did.
Louis shook his head almost violently and turned to look at me, his eyes glowing in the darkness. “I’ve tried to wake him up a hundred times before. He’s nearly killed me a few of the times, and others, he’s just so deep into the dream that you can’t wake him up at all. He just suffers through it.”
Harry’s growls were becoming angry shouts and I was wondering how in the hell I hadn’t heard him before. “Louis, there has got to be a way to help him!”
“Well there isn’t. If you try to help him, you’re going to die.”
I leapt off of the stool and ran down the hallway where the secret staircase or elevator or whatever was. At this point, I still didn’t even know how Harry got to his room. He could climb up a ladder for all I know. Past the staircase that led down to my room was another bedroom, but with empty walls and a bed without sheets or pillows. I searched all four of the walls with my hands and felt around for something – a hidden hinge or an invisible doorknob. I even looked into the closet, but it was too tiny to have anything like a staircase in it.
I sprinted into the hall. “Louis, where is the door to Harry’s room??”
“K, I’m trying to save your life,” he called to me from the kitchen.
When I heard another one of Harry’s growls, I pounded my fist into the wall and continued to the next room. For a moment I thought the door was locked, having always been closed, but after a few more jiggles of the handle, the door flew open. A library. A small one, not many books and just one couch, but a library nonetheless. The door had to be in there. Hidden doors always had to do with bookcases. I flipped on the light and started to scan the nearly bare bookcases, pulling at upright books that weren’t dusty and pushing on others. I felt around the bottom of the shelves with my bare foot for some kind of pedal or anything, but found nothing. I even did so much as to move an entire bookcase, but nothing was behind it. I snarled and rushed into the hallway again. “LOUIS, where is the fucking door??”
When he failed to respond, I sprinted to the next room: the gym. I had been in here a hundred times before, working out and fighting with Harry. No way would I have missed A DOOR to a completely different floor of the house. I flipped on the lights and glanced slowly around the room. I could hear Harry groaning. Slowly, I stepped along the walls, gazing at each of the mirrors closely and checking the distance between each of them. Just to the right of the treadmill, I came to a mirror that was about two inches farther apart from the rest. When I looked closely, I could see fingerprints right on the edge of the glass.
Suddenly I felt sick, knowing that this would be a major invasion of privacy, but after hearing another angry and almost in-pain shout, I pushed on the mirror. It clicked and bounced back toward me, revealing a staircase. My feet carried me upward and I soon found myself on the right side of the balcony, overlooking the kitchen and living room. I could see out into the dark backyard and was stunned to see that I had enough height to see through the glass wall and over the hedges in the backyard. The view of the city lights was stunning, but not something I ever would have imagined you would see from the house or even the yard.
Harry’s shout reminded me why I was there and snapped me out of my star struck gaze. I turned from the balcony banister and stared at the part of the balcony that I had never been able to see from the kitchen below. The area was almost like a half-circle with a door in the middle of the rounded wall. Through the door, I could see a bed, but that was all. As I walked into the room, I came to see that was the only thing in the room. With the help of the moonlight coming from the large window on one side of the room, I could make out handles to a closet.
“Stop it, stop it now,” Harry breathed through his teeth. He was laying on his front, kicking and punching the mattress. Shit, I thought. How am I going to do this? Harry thrashed and tore at the sheets, grunting and gritting his teeth as he fought off his father in his dream.
“What do you want??” He seethed. For a moment, I was frozen in place thinking he was talking to me, but I realized I hadn’t said anything. He wasn’t looking at me either. He was still asleep. “I hate you!” He screamed, pain laced through his raspy voice. “I hate you!!!” he said more angrily this time, throwing a pillow across the room.
I could feel more tears rising to my eyes. This was heartbreaking to watch, but I was still too afraid to approach the bed. My mouth was dry and I couldn’t find the words to say. Shout his name? I’m sure Louis had done that before. I remembered learning in school about how things happening outside of our dreams can affect the dreams. The last thing I wanted to happen was for my shouting his name to be twisted into his dream and just make it worse. What about throwing something at him? Or poking him? What if he grabbed me? Shit, shit, shit I swore, starting to panic as Harry thrashed again. I couldn’t stand to watch any longer. Slowly, I walked to the side of the bed, prepared to run the other way if I needed to, and barely whispered, “Harry?”
He stopped. Everything in the room seemed to stop. The air was sucked out of the room by some invisible force of nature. Harry flipped onto his back and sat up, but seconds later collapsed back onto his front. I wasn’t prepared for what I heard next. Crying.
Harry’s back rose and fell as he tried to control his breathing, but the sobbing wasn’t helping him at all. Hoping (more like praying) that he was okay at this point, I crept to the bed and lifted the sheets to climb in beside him. Harry turned and scooped me into my arms, buried his face into my neck, and sobbed. My fingers twisted into his hair and scratched the back of his sweaty head as he shook and continued to try and calm himself down. I could tell he was tense and probably angry for not being in control even with himself.
“I’m so sor-“
“Don’t, Harry. Don’t. You’re fine. You’re okay. You’re safe.”
I reassured him that he was safe every ten minutes until he fell asleep in my arms. Even when he was calmly asleep, I was kept awake with thoughts of his life and how much he had been through. I wondered how many people knew about his past. I wondered if Arnold did. I was supposed to be staying away from Harry, but with each hour of the day – and of the night – I was getting more and more involved.