Nick Jonas - Chains (this guy is making music for this fanfic, i swear. im so done with life.)
The tips of my fingers grazed the smooth, elasticity fabric of my black spandex shorts. I stood there as the beams of hot light glared down upon my skin. Harry didn't think we needed to waste time and 'settle in'. He preferred to get working as quickly as possible. I figured he was right. The faster we did this, the less time it would seem like.
Harry made his way to the backyard towards my lonely figure. The grass was thick and barely tended to. Preferably this way, considering I might be falling a couple of times. I inhaled deeply, watching him throw a couple of materials to the ground three feet from us. Harry wore a black t-shirt, his tattoos on full display down his arms. The ink poked up to his neck that was tatted as well. He wore navy blue basketball shorts the moved swiftly with him and his graceful movements.
He quickly flipped the black hat on his head backwards, biting down and clenching his jaw with concentration. After settling and counting the number of things he brought with him, he clasped his hands together and rubbed them slowly as he turned to me. Our eyes locked.
I felt intimidated under his gaze. The sun's heavy light seemed to force us to glare at each other. I raised my eyebrows, crossing my arms over my chest in discomfort.
"You look weak. Like if I took a sudden step forward, you'd fall back on your arse." He dryly judged my posture.
With a snarky frown, I unfolded my arms and stood a bit taller. Besides the point that he was insulting me, he was considerably right. I tended to let my posture fail when I was committed to feel uncomfortable and miserable.
"Better," he murmured. "We should stretch. Don't want to pull anything you don't have."
I stared at him with annoyance. "Are you trying to be funny?"
"Of course not. Don't be so impulsive and jump to conclusions," he sarcastically remarked. I had no clue what his problem was, but I decided that I wasn't going to push it any further. "Just do what I do."
Harry brought his left arm behind his neck, bringing his right hand to the arm. I did the same, meanwhile our eyes never left each other. He held it there for about ten seconds before switching arms. He then brought an arm over and across his chest, folding the other one over it. Like before, I copied his actions, even when he switched arms.
We sat on the thick, green grass. Various leg stretches that burned in certain areas. I'm not physically fit like he is, so anyone could imagine how weak and pathetic I seem compared to him at the moment. I sighed and reached for my left foot, stretching as best as I can, and as best as I could copy.
He immediately decided to give me a rank. "You're not doing any of these right."
"Well, it hurts," I informed him, pursing my lips as I peered up at him from my position. He was standing up and coming to me. I ceased the position I was in only to be ordered to lay down. Harry knelt beside me and when he touched my leg, I felt a shudder leave my body and my face grow hot immediately. Damn my hormones and the things his touch can summon.
However, he seemed to be oblivious to my reaction. If he did notice, he payed no mind to it. I parted my lips when he lifted my leg and pressured it back to me slowly until I could definitely feel the burn from the stretch. Both of his hands supported my leg. I waited for him to finish counting. He dropped my leg and did the same to the other, his eyes located on my face the entire time.
"There," he breathed, "At least that'd count as a leg stretch for today."
"I'm sorry. I'm not really athletic and macho like you are," I spat out, careless to how he'd react.
"And you're also very skinny," he commented.
I glared and muttered, "I hope you do teach me very well so I can honestly kick your ass one of these days."
He smirked the widest I've ever seen him before, and I was shocked to see the dimple form on his left cheek. "Let's actually get to the teaching part before I let you kick my ass, Dollface."
"Shut up," I hissed, and as a result he grabbed my arms and pulled me up with a lot of force. I shrieked just when my feet planted on the floor and I bumped against his chest. My hair flowed to my face as I peeked up at him due the obvious height difference.
I felt his hands on my arms and he picked them up before dropping them, and they lazily fell down to my sides. Harry raised his eyebrows, practically teasing me with no words. My mouth parted once more and I inhaled as he slipped his hands through my hair, grabbing all the messy strands across my face and pushing them back from my face.
"Tie up your hair next time," he murmured, one hand wrapped around my hair as the other reached for the elastic around my wrist. Impressively, he tied my hair back into a pony tail with ease.
After a long pause, I slowly began to frown. "I didn't know you could actually tie a pony tail."
Harry glanced at me before backing away. "I do it to myself all the time."
He rolled his eyes in pure annoyance the second I burst out laughing.
Minutes later we were working on form. Harry would consistently scowl and sigh in irritation and frustration whenever I'd do something wrong. Obviously, he isn't fit to be a teacher, but I rather do what he says than get into an argument with him again. I have to give myself a break.
"Catalina," he snapped, and I gasped when I felt his hands grip my hips from behind. His skin felt warm against mine, his slightly rough hands imprinting the feeling in my brain with memory. The touch made my skin fill with color as he snapped me towards the direction he wanted me in. "I said turn this way."
Quite frankly, my mind was somewhere else and he seemed to know that. Minutes passed as he told me where to place my feet, where to hold my hands up if I didn't want to receive a blow to the face, and how to swing my arm. After ten minutes of this, Harry removed his hat and threw it to the floor in irritation.
He inhaled deeply, letting his nostrils flare when he exhaled. His eyes flickered to me before he rushed his hands through his hair.
"Okay," he breathed to himself, attempting to calm himself. I crossed my legs, frowning at the way he was getting so fed up so quickly. "You know what...hit me."
My jaw lacked strength and dropped. "What?"
"Hit me. As hard as you can," he firmly confirmed, waving his hands towards him.
I stared into his beautiful eyes, narrowing my own, still not sure if I have heard him correctly. "Just...wait, what? You want me to hit you? Like willingly?"
He rolled his eyes. "Yes. That's what I fucking said."
"And you won't get angry?" I cautiously asked.
"No, I'm going to be furious," he spat out sarcastically. I frowned. "I'm not going to get angry, Catalina."
Sighing to myself, I eyed him down carefully as I stepped forward. The small step I took barely influenced our shortened distance, since he had stepped closer to me before. He patiently waited for me to move further, and with a breath I tightened my right hand into a fist and raised to hit him.
I squealed when, at least ten times much faster than my own and I got a head start, his raised to wrap around my wrist. I thought I had angered him and loudly exclaimed, "I thought y--!"
"I said I wouldn't get angry. I didn't say I wasn't going to try and stop you." He quietly snapped, tugging my wrist and making me fall against him. "Now you see how totally easy it was for me to catch you? There's --"
"You saw it coming," I defended myself, "So--"
"Shh," he hissed, "I'm talking, don't interrupt me. And even if I didn't know you were going to hit me, I would have easily caught you anyway."
"What's this supposed to prove?" I asked him, trying to whip my wrist away from his grip, but he didn't budge.
Harry silently grabbed my other wrist and positioned them into the earlier form he tried to teach me. He folded his hands over mine to tighten them into fists. He then said, "I'm proving a point. Listen and pay attention. Stop blushing every time I touch you."
Embarrassment flushed over my face again helplessly.
He quietly glanced at me when he moved away. "Let's do something you're familiar with since this is obviously a bad place to start." I shook off my flustered emotions and dropped my hands. With his back turned to me, he shouted, "Put those hands back up!"
Breath hitched in my throat, I quickly fumbled to do what he said. He finally made me drop them when he pulled out a gun. There that thing was. I have't really touched one in a while, considering there wasn't a time I was offered one.
Harry took the safety off and loaded the gun, jaw clenched tightly as he did so. His large hands moved so gracefully when he did it. It was attractive in an overwhelming way. He knew what he was doing with the gun. Through experience.
"Alright," he muttered. "Turn around."
I did what I was told. Facing away from him, I carefully made sure I wouldn't do something idiotic like trip over my feet. He slowly walked up behind me, his chest nearly brushing against my back. I held my breath as I saw his arms reach around me, using his left hand to bring my hand up to the gun.
I tried to ignore the feeling I got whenever our warmth mixed, when our touches met. I tried to stop the acceleration of my heart, knowing my attention should be payed on the gun. Yet, how slow everything seemed to appear in front of me. How his hot breath fanned against the skin of my neck. Or the way his voice sounded right next to my ear. It made my insides squeeze and goosebumps to appear on the surface of my skin.
"Are you paying attention?" He rasped lowly.
Staring straight ahead, now realizing both of my hands are on the gun with his still touching mine. I gulped slowly and nodded my head, murmuring, "Yes."
"What did I say then?"
He spoke? I couldn't reply to that. I had absolutely no idea what he said, or that he had even spoken. I racked my brain and said, "Hold the gun tighter?" It came out more like a question than I ever intended it to be.
Harry paused, and I shuddered when I felt his lips brush against my ear. He whispered, "That's interesting. Because I didn't say anything."
You dumb little shit, I spat at myself in my head. The redness flooded across my face with a highly noticeable change in my facial features.
"Pay attention, Catalina." Harry nearly snarled. "I'm sick of repeating myself."
+
That night I was sore from running around while Harry continuously shouted at me to keep moving. I was tired from shooting trees and tired from trying to get position and form right because he thought we should give it another try. However, he quickly changed his mind when I screwed up multiple times again. He said we'd leave hand-to-hand combat for tomorrow.
I dreaded knowing we'd do this again tomorrow.
"Catalina," Harry said, getting my attention. I sat in the kitchen with a mug of hot tea after a very long, relaxing hot shower. Harry put so much stress on me I had only a shower to look forward to. Somewhere I wouldn't have his eyes on me constantly, somewhere he'd give me space to breathe.
The smooth stool I sat on was around the kitchen island, that was made entirely out of real marbles and aqua-colored gems. My dad really expects everything to be perfect.
I sighed to myself. "What do you want now?" I didn't bother to glance at him, too busy admiring the kitchen island.
Harry shot his deathly glare in my direction because I literally felt it on me. "Get me a mug from the shelf." He ordered me.
I scoffed. "Am I your slave now?"
"Before I toss your damn tea to the floor, get me the mug. It wouldn't kill you to do something for me for once. I do much for you, and still you remain intolerable." He spat.
When I finally peered up at him, I got a sense of karma for being rude. Harry had his wet hair brushed away from his face from a recent shower. His green eyes gazed at me with actual frustration and stress. I realized he had soft dark circles beneath his eyes and although he looked worked out, he looked hot. The pair of sweats he had on rode down, and I could see the white Calvin Klein band of his boxers. I saw the hairline and his v-line near the band. I gulped considerably loudly while he walked and sat down across from me.
His biceps flexed when he abruptly reached for my mug and took it for himself. I watched with parted lips as he downed the hot tea with out a care. My hot tea. The way his adam's apple bobbed up and down caught my attention, admiring the anatomy of his body for a bare two seconds before I reacted.
"Harry, that was my fucking tea!"
"Great, thanks for letting me know." He finally said, sighing and putting down the empty mug. He drank straight hot tea in like thirty seconds.
Harry licked his plump, pink lips and sent me a look, narrowing his eyes a bit. I stared back with an angry frown. "Wow, I didn't think I could dislike you any further."
"Go make me another one, would you?" He plainly ignored my remark and began to play with the strings of his sweats. I glanced up and down his tatted, muscled arms and then angrily sat up from my seat.
I walked towards his side and angrily grabbed the mug from his side. With pursed lips, I walked towards the shelf on a light blue wall I got the last mug from. Upon realizing the others were at the very top, I glowered and began to stand on the tips of my toes. I felt my top ride up from my hips and my shorts riding up near my behind.
With an arm out stretched, I winced at the pain in my feet before, now quite determined, reaching for the bug that was just at the tips of my fingers. When I almost got it, I felt Harry's presence behind me. One of his hands rested around my right hip while the other effortlessly reached for the mug.
I turned around in his grip, peering up at him with slight anger. Harry stared back with much less anger than I had, and handed me the mug. "Apart from being very fragile, you're tiny ass hell."
"I'm tall for an average woman," I defended myself, barely acknowledging our distance.
"Not tall enough to get that mug." I think I heard teasing in his voice.
"Okay, and so?"
"So nothing."
"Okay," I said again, "Now get out of my way."
Harry's eyes turned to slits. "Why do you always like fighting me?" He asked lowly, his beautiful eyes never leaving mine. I was done giving him my attention all the time first because I realized all he'll ever do is use it against me and then make me feel like an idiot.
"Can I just make you your damn tea?" I raised my voice without meaning to.
He clenched his jaw, both of his hands coming to grasp my sides. "Stop raising your voice at me."
"Stop being such a dick."
"See!" He laughed humorlessly in my face. "You fight me all the time. Anything I say, you find a way to disagree."
"Maybe you're just really frustrating." I spat.
"Frustrating? Oh yeah, only because you can't stop blushing every time I touch you. It's like I could put my hands in your hair, and you'd immediately get all red." Harry remarked.
With pursed lips, I frowned and retorted with, "You're unfair. Because if I take off my shirt right now, you'd probably stare, not blush, but you'd try everything in your might to not react when you obviously know you want to. It's not like I want to blush."
"Let's not talk about taking off your shirt, because I'll really regret what I was going to say."
"What were you going to say, huh?" I persisted, poking his chest and provoking him.
Harry shouted, "If I wanted to, if I really did, I'd take off your shirt myself! I'm not rejected you, I'm doing what's best for us by denying you. Because you practically throw yourself at me all the time."
I fumed at his words. He's right, I did do it but I wish I hadn't. I seemed like an idiot. Even if I did want to feel satisfied that he admitted he'd take off my shirt if he had the chance at the right time, I didn't think it was appropriate of me to actually act upon that. He confuses me and misleads me. "That was a mistake. I should have never done that. You're an asshole, and --"
"And you should have listened to me. I told you I'm an asshole. Okay, I'm not going to stand here and tell you I'm a guy with intentions of sweeping you off your feet like you're some little fucking princess."
Pushing him with my knuckles since I've already had my hands wrapped around both mugs, I moved away from him and spat out, "Why are we even talking about this!?"
"You're right," he gnarled behind me. "I don't even know why either. It's our first night here and you're already irritating me."
I turned back around again and shouted, "Oh, so I started this!?"
"I'm not saying I did!"
"Ugh!" I groaned with fury. "I so wish I was a guy right now so I can easily kick your sorry ass. Never mind dislike, I fucking hate you." I rambled off. "You wouldn't let me just get you your damn tea in the first place!"
"Rambling is unattractive." He snapped. "And really fucking irritating."
I laughed bitterly. "Does it look like I'm trying to impress you?"
"Not anymore, anyways. I do recall you taking off your robe the other night in practically nothing. Oh, you bad girl," he mocked.
I was totally embarrassed, but I refused to acknowledge it. "Go make your own tea!" I screamed, feeling my face hot from fury, embarrassment, and possibly lust. Oh, the horror. I wish my mother was here right now so I could ask her about advice on men. Too bad she spends most of her time working as a waitress and ignoring my father's offer of money.
Harry watched as I tossed the mugs into the sink, not caring if one of them cracked or broke. I barely made it out of the kitchen before he spun me around, and pressed his hand to my lower back. Our bodies were touching and I swore I couldn't be more angry and dying to kiss someone at the same time. His hand pressed against my behind, only using one hand to keep my body there against his.
"I didn't say you could walk away from me." He rasped lowly, narrowing his eyes at me.
My hands, or so I hadn't realized, were pressed against his chest in attempt to resist the distance, but that obviously had been futile. "You also didn't say I couldn't." I retorted.
Harry huffed angrily. "Okay, you little smart ass," he muttered, his hand still tightly on my butt, "Go pick up the mug from the sink, and be a nice girl and make me the tea."
"You're one determined man. Can't you just make it yourself? Why are you settled on having me do it?" I asked, clearly annoyed and fuming at this point.
"Because you think you can fight me and walk away. That's not how it works. You listen to me, and only me." Harry demanded.
"Fuck. Off." I hissed slowly. "Is that better?"
His nostrils flared. "I said make me the tea. Or I'll drag you to the sink myself."
At this, I slowly said, "Not. A. Chance."
"Okay." He spat out. "Your choice." Harry turned me around without having to try his hardest, and I shrieked when he picked me up and walked me to the sink. In all seriousness, I didn't think he'd actually do it. He set me down and grabbed my hips, angrily spitting out, "Now pick the damn mug up, darling. I don't have all day."
Fumbling, I reached into the sink and pulled out the green mug. I inhaled deeply when I heard him murmur, "Good girl, baby."
With a shudder, I also heard him add, "Don't make me get up when I sit down."
Afterwards, he let go of me and made his way back to the stool. There he payed close attention to me as I began to make his tea, still breathing quite heavily from all of this. A fired up argument and then his touch, and the raspy tone of his voice. God, I hate him. And I also desperately wish to kiss him. There's just so many mixed emotions here.
I then handed him the tea when it was ready, and he simply took it and said, "Thank you."
note// loll this has to be my favorite chapter to write so far. comment and vote. thank you for the reads everyone.
also new cover ;)