Serenity | H.S. [ON HOLD]

Chapter 1

🎧 | Eyes Off You - M-22, Arlissa, Kiana Ledé

Aurelie's POV

My black hand wraps fell loose as I repetitively punched the bag, my recurring movements for the past twenty minutes tiring me out. I paused my actions mid-way to wipe off my sweat with my towel, my sports bra clinging to my cleavage uncomfortably.

When I lifted my head up, two figures in the gym's boxing ring caught my attention straightaway. The two guys circled each other, delivering punches and deflects swiftly. Their well-defined bodies exchanged aggressive movements, the muscles on the brown-haired one flexing attractively.

And his tattoos, holy shit.

The one with the buzz cut definitely had more but the one with the butterfly tattoo had captivated my attention for some unfathomable reason. I analysed the way he threw his punches, trying to understand how he executed them so perfectly. Even after years of self-defense, I could never get them quite right.

Luck didn't seem on my fucking side however, when Mr. I'm-the-only-guy-who-can-pull-off-a-buzz-cut locked his eyes with me, smirking as he realised I was checking out his friend.

Rolling my eyes internally, I resumed my frustrated punches, trying to ignore the intensity of his gaze. From the corner of my eye, I could tell they were getting out the ring, heading in my direction.

My breath hitched as I heard them approach the benches behind me, their accents sounding foreign as they exchanged quick words.

Of course, I thought to myself, they're British.

My mind drifted to the never-ending anger I held towards my job, releasing my pent-up emotions onto the punching bag.

Being a model was demanding and although I loved it at times, I could only tolerate so much. I'd be out of here in two years though, I wasn't interested in sticking around for long. Once I scored enough money, I'd settle down and get a more-appealing job. One that would give me a stable income without requiring so many heavy expectations.

A light tap on my shoulder pulled me out of my thoughts and I whipped around to see the brown-haired guy standing right in front of me, his friend a few steps behind, still smirking at us.

"Your technique is wrong," he told me, the trace of a smile on his face as his eyes watched me.

Or rather, my body.

"And what makes you think I care?" I asked, raising my eyebrows in amusement. As soon as the words slipped my mouth, I realised it sounded rude but he didn't seem to care thankfully.

In fact, I earned a smile from him as his green-eyes lit up while he flashed me his dimple.

And that drew a smile from me too.

"Can I?" he asked, stepping closer to me to gesture that he wanted to touch me.

"Yeah," I said breathlessly and his hands made contact with my waist, spinning my body so I was facing the punching bag again.

"Your fist should be aligned with your wrist," he said in my ear as he traced his hands up my arms, " and the back of your hand should form a perfect straight line with your forearm."

The feel of his chest on my back distracted me but I willed myself to focus, mirroring his seriousness.

Following his orders, I felt my skin prickle when his breath fanned the back of my neck as he spoke.

"Good," he praised me, his voice sending my emotions into a frenzy.

"Now, when you're throwing hits, don't squeeze your fingers and keep your fist relaxed," he instructed, clasping my wrist so he could guide my hands in the direction of the punching bag.

And too fucking soon, he moved away when he realised I'd gotten the hang of it.

"Now you try by yourself," he told me, his tattooed arms crossed over his chest as he watched me closely.

For some reason, his commanding tone didn't bother me. Usually, I would've gotten annoyed if anyone tried it. Instead, it sparked pleasurable chills down my spine.

Fucking focus, Aurelie.

"Right okay," I whispered, trying not to get flustered. Mimicking everything he'd just taught me, I let out a flow of punches onto the bag, ensuring I didn't tighten my fist too much.

When I was done, he watched me dangerously as our eyes locked.

"Perfect," he said and I was hyper-aware of the suffocating distance between us.

"So," I started, "are you gonna tell me your name?"

"I should keep you wondering," he smirked but didn't follow through with his words.

"I'm Harry and that asshole is Zayn."

He signalled over to his friend, who had lost interest in Harry and I's interaction a while ago. When he heard the mention of his name however, he lifted his eyes off his phone, sending me a wave.

"Well, nice to meet you two," I told them, packing up my bag lazily while sitting, "thanks for helping me out."

"So you do admit to wanting help then?" he said playfully, giving me a hand to pull me off the floor.

He's too attractive for his own good, Jesus.

"Don't let it get to your head," I laughed, rolling my eyes.

"It's rude to roll your eyes, darling," he pointed out, a never-ending smirk plastered across his confident features.

Walking towards him, I placed a hand on his pecs gently. I had to go on my tip-toes to lean my lips towards his ear, even though I was decently tall.

"I don't care," I whispered softly, enunciating each of my words before pulling myself off his shirtless frame.

Leaving him stunned, I stepped away, heading towards the exit.

"See you around, Harry."

"What's your name?" he called after me, making me turn at the last minute to see an impressed look on his face at my boldness.

Typical men, always underestimating women.

"Aurelie," I responded, laughing. Leaving the gym against my wishes, I shook my head on the way out.

A cold shower looked fucking great right now but I had a feeling that even that wouldn't be able to wash off Harry's lingering touches.

***

A/N: This is the kind of sexual tension I wish would exist in my life. Random, but do you guys have any questions for me? If you do, please ask away cause I'll answer them honestly. And also, I added the casting for another character since I'd forgot to add his in.