Nude » h.s (#Wattys2016)

ix

[Edited]

❝He was like the moon, part of him was always hidden.❞

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[Angel's POV]

My eyes were wide and lips parted slightly as I continued staring at the man in front of me. I had never expected to find a person such as Harry like this. I was shocked. He always seemed to be a collected man, but right now that image of him had disappeared from my head because a few feet away from me stood a completely different Harry. One with some serious anger issues.

He was in the corner of the studio near a punching bag, which I didn't remember seeing the last time I was here, as he repentantly punched it violently. He wasn't wearing gloves, he had just wrapped a cloth around his knuckles and the sound his fist made every time it collided with the bag sounded really painful. He didn't seem to care though. I couldn't really see his face because it was dark in the room, only the fireplace providing some light, but even in the dim light I could clearly see that he was shirtless.

I took some steps closer without tearing my eyes away from him so that I had a better look at him. His torso glowed as sweat covered it, his long curly hair was wet and stuck on his forehead and I could see his muscles tense every time he punched the bag with strength. He was mesmerising, but what caught my attention the most wasn't his well-defined body. It was the fact that black ink covered most parts of it. He was practically covered in tattoos something that again, I didn't expect. Both arms were completely covered with small and big tattoos and so was his torso from what I could make out. He even had a small one on the bottom of his back, which looked like a sentence, but I couldn't see it very well. I was so focused on observing his tattoos that I didn't notice when he stopped.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, his voice deep and filled with anger that it scared me. I shook my head, moving my eyes away from his body and looked at his face to see that he wasn't looking back at me. Instead, his eyes were glued on the floor as he unwrapped the cloth from his hands.

"I-I-" I stammered.

"I think I told you not to get out of your room, unless I told you so." He stated, finally turning his head to look at me.

His dark green eyes met with my blue ones and I regretted immediately my decision to disobey him. I should have definitely stayed in my room. The intensity in his eyes and the frown on his face told me he wasn't happy with it... not a bit. He looked like he was going to attack me any second and that was intimidating.

For a strange reason, even though, I feared the man in front of me I was still standing in my place. I couldn't move, even though, I really wanted to get out of the room.

"Yes but-" I started to say in an attempt to explain myself, but he interrupted me once again.

"But you didn't listen to me." He said, walking past me and approaching the coffee table behind me. I turned around to look at him, but didn't dare speak.

He took his black sweater that was lying on the floor and pulled it over his head and covered his torso along with his tattoos. It was then that I realised that he had been hiding his tattoos this whole time. He always wore long sleeved shirts or dark clothes so that no one could see the black ink on his body underneath them. Agnes must know about them.

He ran a hand through his hair, pushing them away from his face and then turned his back to me. I watched as he served himself a glass of whiskey without bothering to talk to me and I was starting to feel confused. Minutes ago he was angry and now he didn't even acknowledge me. His hand slipped in his back pocket and he took out a packet of cigarettes before placing one between his plump lips and lighting it up. He closed his eyes inhaling deeply and letting the smoke flow down into his lungs.