Mafia Flower // Harry Styles

5

     I woke to the smell of coffee. I shuffled into the kitchen with my bunny slippers as the aroma of coffee swirled around the air. Mr. Styles leaned against the kitchen's island as he sipped from his black coffee mug. I made myself a cup of coffee while his eyes were fixed on his phone. He was dressed in sweatpants and a shirt. This was the first time I'd seen him dressed so casually.

"Good morning. Any plans for today?" I broke the silence.

He slid his phone into his pocket and said, "I'm going to the gym. I just paid to get in an hour before it opens so I'll be alone."

I nodded and responded, "Can I tag along?"

"Yeah. Don't take long to get ready."

I shuffled to my room and quickly changed into workout clothes. I followed Mr. Styles out of the apartment and we took the elevator to the dark, ginormous parking garage. His assistant swiftly pulled up next to us in Mr. Styles's million-dollar Rolls Royce car. The driver's car window rolled down to reveal Alissa. Alissa, the assistant, glared at me through her sunglasses, which reminded me of bug eyes.

"To the gym, Mr. Styles? Is there anything else you need?" She asked in a feminine, professional voice and seductively pushed her chest forward. Mr. Styles opened the door, allowing me to slide in first. He slid in after me. The car smelled freshly of new leather and some kind of citrus-scented cleaner. Mr. Styles responded, "No. Did you get us breakfast?"

"Yes, sir," she replied respectfully and patted the bag on the passanger seat. Mr. Styles leaned forward and plucked the bag from the seat and planted it in his lap. He pulled out two breakfast sandwiches which exuded the smell of bacon and grease. We ate our sandwiches as Alissa aggressively drove the busy streets of New York.

We arrived at the gym and Alissa dropped us off. The huge boxing gym was empty except for punching bags, dumbells, and a boxing ring. Mr. Styles kicked off his shoes and set down his flask on the floor. He turned to me and stated, "I can't protect you for the rest of your life. Someday you're gonna need to know how to defend yourself. Stand like this." He slightly bent his knees, placed one foot in front of the other and held his fists in front of his face.

I confidently stripped my top to reveal my grey sports bra and tossed the top aside on the navy blue floor. I balled my fists and copied his stance. "I've been training since I was fourteen," I let him know.

He chuckled and mocked me, "With those stick arms?"

I thrusted my fist and he deflected the blow. He chuckled at my attempt to hit him with my 'stick arms.'

"We'll start with dodging and blocking. You said you've been trained. Let's see what you know."

He curled his fingers and gestured me to fight him. We danced in a circle of punches and dodges. My ponytail swayed with my sweaty movements. I bounced lightly on the balls of my feet before I hooked my left fist under his chin. While Harry is off-balance from my defensive strike I sweep my leg between his so he falls backwards onto the mat. He groans and rolls as he holds his groin.

I place my hands on my hips triumphantly and ask confidentaly, "So, how did I do?" My lips almost curved into a smirk but I held back.

"It was good but I let you do that," he muttered as he stood up from the floor. I'm caught off-gaurd as he suddenly and firmly pushes me up against the mat. His hot breath fanned me as he held his hands at my neck. He was careful not to squeeze as if he was holding a newborn. The dominance he had over me took my brearh away. I furrowed my brows and gasped, "What are you-?"

"If an attacker had you like this, what would you do?"

I grabbed his wrist and elbow, trapping  it between our chests. I rolled us over so I was on top of him. My knees were beside his hips and my eyes were gazing into his as we were out of breath. I realized the awkwardness buzzing in the air between us and I quickly sprung to my feet.

"Good," he praised simply before picking himself up off the dusty mat. Then, he stalked circles around me like a predator hunting their prey. I watched him disappear behind me before he grasped my shoulders and pulled me against him. His large hand held my throat again and I knew this was my cue to fight back. Since I couldn't slam my head into his because of how he towered over me, I responded by stepping on his toes. I whipped around, my ponytail proabably whipping him in the face during the process, and I posed my fists in front of my face.

"How was that?" I asked and lowered my fists to my sides.

"You're alright but with some more practice you could be better."

He scooped up his flask, which I hoped was filled with water, and took a swig. Then, I noticed his phone buzzed and lit up on the floor next to his foot. I could see a text notification from Alissa. As Harry had noticed too, he swiped the phone from off the floor and entered the secret password on his cellphone. His thumbs typed rapidly before he powered off the slim machine and slid it into his cotton pocket.

"We should go before this place opens."

We gathered our belongs and awaited the the car outside the gym.

• • •

There was nothing but silence in the apartment as Mr. Styles attended to his secret work in his office. I was lying on my abdomen with my sock-clad feet swaying to and fro as the TV quietly played vintage movies. I had decided to write in my diary. Every thought and emotion inside me transferred onto paper through the pen and curled inky lines. The fact that dangerous criminals were relentless at finding me did trouble me and I didn't realize I had been bottling up my emotions as a coping mechanism. My whole life I had been bottling up my emotions and painting a fake smile on my face. I wondered if I was staying strong or if I was numb to the fear of this criminal world because I was born and raised in it.

As the sunset painted the sky burnt orange, the skyscraper's lights began to glow. I had turned the TV off and the apartment was silent until I heard high heels marching down the hallway. I wondered what Mr. Styles's assistant was doing here so late. I heard muffled voices followed by moans. I could only guess what was happening as I rolled my eyes. Suddenly, the voices increase in volume as they argue. I threw the comforter off my body and quietly stepped into the hallway. Mr. Styles's bedroom door powerfully flung open and a half-naked Alissa marched out of his room in indignation. She shot daggers at me with her cold blue eyes as she stalked away with clothes in her fists. The front door slammed shut after she made her dramatic exit. Mr. Styles leaned against the door-frame with his tie undone. He was sweaty and tense as he crossed his arms. His snake eyes pinned me down. I felt like a deer caught in headlights as his angry snake eyes examined me.

"Oh, I-I didn't know Alissa was your girlfriend," I stammered quietly in shock at the scene I just witnessed.

Mr. Styles tsked and grumbled, "She's not my girlfriend."

Oh, I see. I retreated to my bedroom before I could make him angrier.