The Cult [h.s]

~twelve~

Alena's POV

I was passing through the hallway of the 4th floor when I hear a heavy grunting sound coming from one of the rooms. I follow the sound and reach in front of the door.

It is one of the practice rooms from where the sound is coming.

I slowly open the door and peek inside. I look around the room to find the person making these dangerous noises. When I look at the far left end, I see a shirtless guy's back facing me. He has curly brown hair and it is enough for me to know who it is.

He is kicking, flipping and punching the polyethylene wall in front of him with all his force.

He hasn't seen me yet and I would like to keep it that way.

I slowly open the door a bit more to fit myself in it and close the door quietly behind me.

Harry's back is facing me. His back muscles are prominent and sweaty from all the vigorous combat he is doing. His curly lustrous hair is sticking at the back of his neck.

He is wearing a pair of dark grey track pants which hang low on his hips making an electric buzz kind off feeling flow throughout my body.

I have been standing here for the past five minutes admiring his back without him noticing me.

He looks very tense as he is kicking the wall in front of him as if he is taking his pent up anger all on it. His movements are very swift and tactical. He hasn't stopped since I entered. No wonder how long he has been working out before I came here.

I feel a bit worried about him. He seems too hard on himself which doesn't feel right.

I also feel like a fucking creep gawking at him like this. Silently I start walking towards the door to exit.

"Going without even a hello, Alena?" I hear someone speak from behind me. I freeze in my tracks.

Shit.

Holy shit.

Why does this always happen to me?

How long has he known that I was standing there? Why didn't he say anything before?

He is a spy for fucks sake, obviously he would have known the moment I entered. What was I thinking? The first thing about being a spy is alertness about everything around them so him knowing already that I was here is not a big deal.

I turn around slowly with an embarrassed face for being caught like a fucking stalker.

He has a smirk plastered on his face as I turn my gaze to his face.

As he turns fully towards me I can see his front portion, my eyes widen in shock as I see all the tattoos littering all over his body which I have never seen before in our previous encounters as they are always covered by his dark colored shirts. His arms have like dozens of tattoos. As I approach near him I can see a tattoo of two swallows facing each other below his collar bone. There are ferns inked on his torso which are half hidden by his tracks.

But the tattoo which attracts me the most is the butterfly, placed perfectly in the middle of his chest.

It is mesmerizing.

He is gorgeous in everyway, I will say. His eyes are the brightest green I have ever seen. His jaw line is so sharp that it can cut the air between us. His chest is covered with sweat. And don't let me get started on his abs. His tanned skin is gleaming by the lights in the room. His sweaty hair sticking up on his forehead isn't helping me from keeping my hands away from stroking through them but I control myself. His v-lines disappearing into his track pants could get any girl weak on her knees.