"What's a sweet woman like you doing here all by herself?" His voice is low and raspy, it's hot. He reaches down and tucks a strand of my hair behind my left ear, waiting for my reply.
"I'm not sweet. Go back to your table." I tell him firmly. A gl...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Harry's POV:
"Come on Styles, you're hitting like a girl!" Coach bellows from the ropes as my fist smacks into Niall's jaw causing him to huff out a sharp breath.
I shake out my aching arms with a groan as beads of sweat roll down my neck, I've had to log a lot more hours training because of the competitions coming up. On occasion, one of the boys will join me in the ring for a session to give me a live opponent and take me away from the usual practice dummies and bags.
"That's so sexist, I'm going to ignore that statement." I grumble out as I tip my neck side to side, cracking my sore joints.
"You know what I mean." He says gruffly as he steps under the ropes and into the ring, "go again. Better."
I huff and move my attention back to Niall who just smirks at me, "too scared, Styles?"
I scoff, "I think you're forgetting who the professional is here."
Niall responds with a jab to my stomach to distract me as he lines up his right hand for a cross. He overestimates the skill of his tactics and I block him immediately before I rear hook him.
He grunts at the impact, stumbling back slightly before leaning in for a typical uppercut, he's so obvious.
I move my arms to block him but before I can register it, my back is slamming down on the floor, a shooting pain spreading across the back of my head. It feels like my insides are bouncing around from the force. The fucker tripped me.
I feel a hand grab mine to help pull me back to my feet slowly. I rub my eyes and blink, the pain in my head dissipating with each one.
"Well looks like you finally beat him, Niall," coach mumbles in annoyance as he slaps my back, way harder than necessary.
Niall celebrates but I speak up loudly, "what the fuck?! He fouled me!"
Coach shakes his head, "I never said there was rules, expect the unexpected or whatever."
"That's not fucking fair! We're supposed to be training! You can't do that in actual matches so why can he-" I start but coach buts his hand up to interrupt me.
"I don't want to hear it Harry." He states as he walks over to help take off my gloves, then motions with his head to door while looking at Niall.
"Fuck no, I'm not leaving. I wanna hear you slag his ass off." Niall laughs almost hysterically as he rips off his gloves and reaches for his water bottle. Coach looks to me for the final say as to whether Niall's presence will be tolerated.
I sigh begrudgingly, "Fine whatever, stay." I won't admit it to either of them but I'm nervous for what coach has to say, I think I already know what it will be.
"Look, Harry, I'm not trying to piss you off or whatever but whatever is going on with you needs to stop now, before you ruin any chance of qualifying for the championships let alone winning." His tone isn't as condescending as I imagined it would be but more layered with frustration and pity.
