Invisible string | Harlan Briggs

Chapter 009

Smut warning for this chapter

As we pull up to the gym, the early morning air is crisp, carrying with it the faint scent of dew and asphalt. The sun is just beginning to rise, casting a soft glow over the buildings, and the steady hum of the world coming to life fills the silence between us. We step out of the car together, Harlan's hand brushing against mine as he slams the door shut behind him. We share a quiet smile, a wordless exchange that speaks volumes, before heading toward the gym doors.

Inside, the familiar, comforting scent of rubber mats and sweat welcomes me. The gym is bustling with activity, but there's a stillness in the air, like the calm before the storm of effort and determination that fills the room once everyone's fully engaged in their workout. I glance around quickly, noting the layout—weights in one corner, the squat racks near the wall, and the wide open area for stretching and cardio.

I feel a rush of excitement as I make my way toward the outside section, a small patch of space that overlooks the city skyline, a perfect spot to warm up. My body aches for the movement, the routine I've been craving for what feels like forever. Life has been so stop-and-start lately, and getting back to this—getting back to me—feels like finding something I thought I lost.

"Catch you in a bit," I murmur to Harlan, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. His smile deepens as he watches me walk away, the unspoken connection between us alive in the space that remains between us.

As I begin my stretches, I glance up to see Harlan in the reflection of the mirror across the room. He's lifting weights, focused, his muscles straining with effort. But his gaze is unmistakably trained on me, his eyes following every movement, watching me with an intensity that both excites and challenges me.

An idea forms in my mind, a playful spark that I can't resist. Slowly, I remove his shirt from around my shoulders, letting it slide off and drop to the floor, revealing my sports bra. The chill of the morning air brushes against my skin, but the heat of Harlan's attention is enough to make me forget the temperature entirely. I make sure I'm facing the mirror, positioning myself just so, knowing full well that he's watching.

My stretches become deliberate, fluid, my body arching and bending, each movement more controlled than the last. I turn around to face away from him, bending down for a deep stretch, my ass now facing his direction. The sensation of his eyes on me, heavy and unwavering, sends a rush of heat through my veins, and I can't help but press just a little further into the stretch, giving him a show with every motion.

When I move into a plank, I make sure my chest is directed squarely at him, my body tense and balanced as I hold the position. I can feel the weight of his gaze, steady and unrelenting, and I know I've caught his attention. Every few minutes, I catch him readjusting, his movements becoming more noticeable as he struggles to focus, but he doesn't look away. His smirk tells me all I need to know.

I'm about to walk over to him, to close the distance between us and see what happens when I make the first move, but before I can, a sharp, high-pitched ringing splits through the air, an intrusive sound that pierces right through my thoughts. My hands shoot up instinctively to cover my ears, the noise rattling through my head, the pain sharp and unwelcome.

At first, I think it's just me, that it's some lingering effect from the energy of the workout, but then I see Harlan. His face is twisted in discomfort too, his hand rubbing his temples as if trying to block out the sound. The ringing grows louder, more intense, as if every noise is being amplified beyond reason.

The feeling is all too familiar—it's like the first full moon all over again. My body starts to tense involuntarily, my heart rate picking up as I fight for control, my mind racing. But this time, I don't know what's happening. The noise won't stop, and it feels like the world is spinning, tilting at a sharp angle, throwing me off-balance.