amaranthine ⋒ h.s

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑬𝑳𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵

(CHAPTER ELEVEN)

"JUST answer one question. Just one." I begged him as we walked next to each other on treadmills. He was going easy on me today since he wouldn't fucking leave me alone last night and kept me up late. I told him as long as he let me sleep, he could stay.

That's a big step. I wasn't sure about it at first, but once I got him all comfortable in my bed, I didn't want him to leave. But every time I almost got to sleep, he hit me square in the face with a pillow. And then he laughed. I eventually had to kick him out at like twelve-thirty because he was having too much fun bothering me.

He pouted at me the entire time, trying to make me feel bad, all while looking so cuddly and tired. I didn't want him to leave. I wanted to crawl back in bed with him and wrap his arms around me. But I knew better than that. Harry and I are on good terms right now and I'd hate to ruin that again.

This man doesn't even sleep, just so you know. He told me he got two hours once he got home and he was fine. I think that's a lie. How isn't he dead? How doesn't he look dead? I know I would.

Right now I'm prying for answers about his boxing career. The last thing I want to do is type his name into any search engine because for some reason it feels like an invasion of privacy. I want him to tell me directly. I feel like we're close enough. I mean, I just had my tongue down his throat weeks ago. I think he can tell me something.

"Bubbles, if it's a dumb question, I'm going to push you off this treadmill." I shook my head quickly.

"It won't be dumb. I'm just curious. But just tell me you don't want to answer my questions. If you yell at me, I'll cry." I decided to let him know this time. I can't handle another spat with Harry. It doesn't work out for either of us.

"I won't yell at you, okay?"

"Okay." He patted my cheek gently before looking forward again.

"Go ahead then, baby." Speaking of that . . .

"Actually, two questions. They're quick and easy, I swear," I hope the answer is the same way for the second one. Quick and easy. He just rolled his eyes but didn't comment, so I assumed that it was fine with him. "How old are you?" I have to know to be able to tell when he could've started and how long he boxed.

"Thirty-three." I gasped and stopped walking for a second, almost falling off the treadmill. I had to run to keep myself on it.

"Grandpa, are you sure you should be walking that fast?" He scoffed and hit the button on mine to make me have to walk faster. "So, wait—"

"Is this going to be your second question?" Oh, fuck. I shook my head. "Then I'd choose wisely." Okay. When did he quit? Is that more important to know now than why he calls me the b word?

"When did you stop?" He narrowed his eyes at me. It wasn't why, he can answer this one simple question.

"Right before I turned thirty." Wow.

"You're old as fuck. I knew you were older than me, but my god. You're practically my grandfather." He hit the button again. I was almost running at this point.

"I want you to run a mile. Just one. You'll probably sweat so you might want to take your shirt off." I shot him a look and decided to humor him. He just wants to watch my tits bounce.

"Oh, how concerned you are." I slowed down the treadmill and hopped off so I could take off my shirt.

"Yes, very concerned. Wouldn't want you to overheat." I ripped my shirt off and got back on the treadmill. He stood off to the side and waited as I ran my mile. Once I was done, we both walked towards the bathrooms.