Fight Club (h.s.)

Part 3

I feel out of place, my hands grabbing my sunglasses out of my pocket. Putting them on, I watch as people gather around the ring in pursuit to view a good fight. I've never been to one and I'm intrigued to see what will happen.

An announcer comes on and I remove my sunglasses, looking up at the fight. My eyes watch a fighter come on, his huge body something probably undefeated. His black hair is buzz-cut and he has a slight beard, his skin already gleaming.

The next fighter comes out and my jaw drops, the all too familiar male standing in front of the opponent. His muscular body is littered with tattoos and his brown curls have been pulled back into a bun on his head.

Harry fights.

I now recall that his last name is Styles; he was asked to take his hood off in class using that name. My hands push into my jacket and I watch what's going on, the announcer calling the fight. It starts and Harry pushes his arm towards the man, his fist colliding with the man's cheek. The two fight and once Harry has the man on the ground, he glances up and meets my eyes. He looks away but double takes, his eyes widening when he sees me. He yells something to someone and a man comes to me, grabbing my arm.

"He wants you to stand here," he says, my throat swallowing hard. Now, I'm nervous. I was just caught in a place I probably shouldn't be.

The upcoming events are nerve-wracking, Harry suffering a few hits. His eye is bruised and his lips are bleeding but he soon knocks the opponent down. The expression he holds is anger, my fear being swallowed under his gaze. I'm horrified.

He maneuvers under the ropes and takes my elbow in his hand, walking me down a hallway.

"Tell Tom I'll be out in twenty," Harry states, the man who brought me to the front nodding. I'm tugged into a room and pushed against a wall, his huge body standing in front of me.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he grits, my heart thumping against my chest.

"I-I don't-" he cuts me off.

"You shouldn't be here. You could get hurt," he states, my head nodding quickly. My eyes flash to his injuries, his lips cut to a painful sight.

"A-Are you hurt?" I ask, the one question causing him to look at me strangely.

"I'm fine. Don't fucking think you can tell people about this; it's crucial you don't," he grits, my eyes closing as he yells at me.

I nod quickly, his eyes staring at me.

"Am I scaring you?" he asks, taking notice to my trembling figure. My head slowly nods and he backs away, shaking his head as he unwraps his hands.

"You shouldn't be scared of me. I've done nothing to you," he says, my feet slowly walking to sit on a bench.

"You intimidate me," I whisper, his body turning to face me. Blood is dripping down his face from his eyebrow, my eyes flickering away from him.

"I intimidate everyone. I can kick everyone's ass if they mess with me," he says, sitting on the bench across from me.

"You don't talk much, do you?" he asks, my eyes flickering to meet his.

I shake my head, his lips pressing together. My fingers find a paper towel and I look at him, bothered he's not taking care of his injuries.

"May...I?" I ask, his eyes glancing at me.

"Go ahead," he says, my fingers grabbing the water bottle and wetting the paper towel. I slowly drag it over his eyebrow, ridding him of the blood on his face. He flinches a few times, my apologies quiet. He shakes it off though.