THE TAYLORS [H.S]

16.

Harry was the epitome of don't judge a book by its cover. Although the apartment complex looked run down and on the brink of collapsing, the inside of his apartment was the complete opposite.

High ceilings, an open plan living room, kitchen, and mahogany floorboards greeted me as we walked into the loft styled apartment.

During the short distance from his car to his front door, I had scolded myself for being so emotional over what had happened. I knew deep down that it was perfectly normal to feel such emotions, though I wouldn't let myself breakdown in front of Harry. I didn't like the pity that I saw in Harry's eyes, nor did I like the way it made me feel. So instead, I forced myself to swallow my feelings down, feeling like Stephen from the Vampire Diaries when he switched his humanity off.

I forced myself to scan over the apartment, taking it all in. I wasn't surprised to see majority of his furniture was a mix of neutral colours, something as boring as Harry - though what I was surprised about, was the fact there were two shirtless men doing push-ups in the middle of the lounge room.

I had to glance down at my phone, internally confirming to myself that it was in fact well into the early hours of the morning, and neither of the two men seemed slightly concerned with our arrival, nor did they look as if they were going to stop their late night workout. They laughed to each other, counting loudly as they pressed their bodies down and rose up again, their arms flexing, sweat dripping. Surely they were lying though. Who the hell could do sixty push ups in a row?

I turned to Harry and rose an eyebrow, silently questioning what the hell was going on and who the hell these people were. Harry didn't say anything to me, though he did let out frustrated sigh before he slammed the front door behind us, startling the two gym junkies.

The one on the left, the one who had a tattooless body, and fluffy looking hair, startled at the sound, collapsing in a heap on the floor with a groan.

"Fuck sake," he grumbled, pushing himself back up. He shot a glare over in our direction. "Why'd you slam it so hard?!"

"Don't act as if you were even close to beating me this time," the other one sniggered, still doing push ups. He didn't even seem slightly out of breath as he spoke and I thought that was incredibly impressive.

The tattoos on his arms seem to have a lift of their own as he bent them, looking alive and dancing as he continued his workout.

"Ignore them," Harry said with a roll of his eyes. He nudged his head in the direction of the hallway which was to the left of the men who began bickering. He began walking, ushering me to follow.

I did, though I decided I would pause momentarily in front of the men, it only seemed to be the polite thing to do and I was all sorts of polite. I wasn't trying to annoy Harry, not at all.

Well.

Maybe just a little.

I twinkled my fingers in a wave, giving the men a nod in greeting. "Anna Taylor, nice to meet you."

"Fucking hell," Harry sighed. "Do you ever listen to what you're told?"

The men in front of me both simultaneously got to their feet as my greeting, wiping the sweat off their hands and taking turns shaking my hand. I smiled smugly over at Harry. I already liked them. They already seemed more polite than angry curly headed bastard I was stuck with.

"Liam," the tattooed one introduced. He gave me a smile, one that took my eyes away from the bruises on his face. I tried not to make it obvious that I looked at them, given that they swelled half of his face.