Baby, We're Fireproof

Chapter 7

Harrys pov

It's a week later when I find myself at a training centre my parents hired out for Paul to teach me at.

Mum dropped me off this morning and now I'm sitting there, waiting for Paul who should be here any second. I'm wearing black Nike shorts with a gray shirt that has a bundle of small red roses on the pec.

I hear the door open so I look up to see Paul walking in, holding a bag. He looks older then he did when I last saw him. His hairs more gray and his face has a few more wrinkles, but his eyes still hold the same caring and softness I remember.

"Harry! How are you son?" He exclaims, wrapping me in his massive arms, holding me to his chest. I return the hug, sighing out a "good".

I forget how much I missed Paul. His familiar scent, his amazing hugs that always could cheer me up. Everything about him screamed comfort.

"I missed you kiddo, your mum told me your having a bit a trouble at school?" He asks after he releases me from the hug.

"Oh, yeah. Just the same old, same old. It's really nothing."

"Haz, you still have fading brusies on your face" he says softly. "Why didn't you fight them off? Protect yourself?"

"Because, whats the point? It's not like I could actually do that." I say, looking down.

"Not with that mindset, you can't. If you keep telling yourself you can't do it, then you won't be able to. Believe in yourself!"

"Paul, look at me. I'm a twig. I can't even fight off a fucking bee if it was attacking me."

He gave a small chuckle. "Alright then,  I'm gonna make sure you can. C'mon, let's get to work."

***

"Come on Harry! Hips still! Bend your arms more!" Paul yells out.

We've been training for about an hour now and I'm already done. We're currently doing punches, him holding Mitt's that I'm aiming for.

I just can't seem to get it right. Either my arms are doing something wrong or my legs are in the wrong position. Isn't punching someone just throwing your arm out towards them? Jesus.

"I'm trying." I pant out as I fix my posture.

"Okay, I think we'll take a break from that." Paul lowers the Mitt's.

"Thank god." I get out, unstrapping the boxing gloves from my hands.

"Now, we need to work on getting out of someone's grasp. If someone grabs you and holds you in any position, you need to know how to get out of it. Come here."

I walk over to him after having a quick sip of water. I stand in front of him.

"We're going to start with a simple one." He reaches out and grabs my arms, holding them together behind my back. Now this one I remember.

I kick my leg out behind me, aiming for hr crotch. I know Paul's got tricks to not get hurt so I'm not worried. Once he lets my arms go I turn around, pretending to punch him in the throat. Of course I'm not actually going to do it to Paul.

"Good job kid, I'm impressed. You remember." Paul tells me.

"Thanks." I smile.

***

"Aim for a kill. The neck, chest and temple Harry." Paul's says from where he's standing off to the side, watching me.

I'm standing infront of a fake human target, holding a large knife. This practice is more so for my safety outside of school, of course. Mafia related stuff.