๑ mч síngíng αngєl // hαrrч stчlєs [α.u] ๑ (ON HOLD UNTIL AFTER SUMMER)

๑ chαptєr thrєє ๑

๑ C h a p t e r  T h r e e ๑

Aaliyah grew tired as Harry still jogged with her. He didn't even struggle for oxygen, or try to slow down on his own at all. It seemed as if he weren't ever even running at all in the first place. When Aaliyah abruptly stopped, placing her hands on her knees as she bent over to catch her breath, Harry stopped as well. He looked down at her. His expression was full of concern, "Are you alright?" 

"Yeah, I am fine thanks. I just need to," Aaliyah paused trying to prove her point, "catch my breath."

"Well here, do you need water?" He asked her. She put up her hand in reject to his offer.

"Nah, I have a bottle of my o-" but Aaliyah stopped when she realized she no longer had the water bottle. Or, did she even really ever have it to begin with? She now couldn't remember.

"Here," Harry brought the bottle of water toward her, encouraging her to take it. But Aaliyah refused.

"No thank y-"

"Take it," his voice dropped an octave. She looked up at him wide eyed as she hesitantly took the bottle of water from Harry's hand. Their hands brushed slightly against one another as she took it. She softly gasped at how cold the presence of his hand was. He seemed to notice, as he quickly withdrew his hand away from hers. The water bottle accidentally fell from both their loosened holds, as it hit the concrete with a 'bonk.' But Aaliyah didn't seem to notice as she was still in her own little trance of how ice cold Harry's hand was. Yes, it was winter. But being in this part of Arizona, the temperature never really got cold. The coldest would be low 60's maybe, if even that. Her hand was like a heater compared to his. It was almost as if he stuck his hand in freezing ice water for at least an hour. If that sums it up for you.

Harry was staring at Aaliyah intensively as she looked up at him. She looked down immediately under his harsh stare, as she stared down at the water bottle that was still on the concrete beneath them both, in between both of their feet.

"Aren't you going to get that, Aaliyah?" Harry asked. Her insides shivered when he spoke her name. The still unknown explanation for how he had already known it before they actually met still left Aaliyah confused. She bent down tiredly, picking up the water bottle. As she stood upward again, his eyes never leaving her face which held a flabbergasted expression. His eyes darted down to the water bottle in her hand as her hands were secured tightly around it, her knuckles white as she held a tight grip on it the bottle curving in at the contact, before his eyes darted back to her face, back at the water bottle, then to her lips, staying there for a little longer than the other glances, before back down at the water bottle once again. "Aren't you going to drink that?"

The way his voice was low, deep, husky and slow along with his accent made Aaliyah feel vulnerable for some strange reason. 

"I'm not that thirsty," she spoke almost in a whisper. Harry chuckled.

"You're lying," he stepped closer toward her.

"W-what? No I am not. How am I lying, Harry?" she asked him, anger visible in her tone.

"Because you have just got done saying how you needed a drink love," his tongue came out, wetting his lips, before returning back in his mouth as a smirk was plastered on his face. A dimple prominent on both cheeks, his left cheek dimple more visible than the right.

"Alright well, I changed my mind. I just needed to catch my breath," Aaliyah addressed him.

"Alright well, I still want you to drink the water, just some, because you need it. You're exhausted, and are going to pass out of dehydration if you don't," he explained before putting his hands up in the air in defeat. "I'm just trying to help you, that's all."