Timeless [h.s]

Nine

Enjoy it ;)

Stuart

The place was crowded when we arrived, but I followed Harry's rapid steps towards back doors. I felt watched, as if every single pair of eyes was curiously prying, trying to see where he'd take me.

"Welcome to the extremely exclusive backstage of amateur boxing." He said, making my lips curve upwards delicately. Harry opened the door to a large room, filled with old trophies and benches. It was some sort of changing room, although no one seemed to be around. I looked around curiously, taking in my surroundings and imagining how it looked like in peak conditions.

"I still can't believe you're into boxing. You look like the type of guy who plays some fancy things, tennis maybe." He laughed at me; I could see the amusement dancing in his green eyes. Things between us were effortless, so much it scared me. I knew him for so little and yet so long.

"You don't know me at all, Charlie." He giggled again, the sound ringing in my ears like a child's twinkly, chaste laughter. "Thank God we're expanding this friendship." Harry added, mischief clear in his tone. My stomach fluttered just enough to make me wonder if my longing for his presence was overpowering my fright for his wellbeing.

"You are so conceited, Harry." I mumbled, watching his arms flex as he moved around, opening a locker and retrieving a bag. He chuckled, not stopping his task and I took my time to admire his long limbs, dark hair and numerous tattoos. If he had been living in the 17th century, surely, his ink would not be appreciated, but I found it endearing, knowing it suited him well.

"I'm going to change real quick." He spoke, holding only a flimsy pair of shorts in his hands. He came closer and surprised me, poking my nose like a curious infant. I rose an eyebrow, wondering if thar was his way of showing endearment without coming too close.

"Don't keep me waiting for too long, I might bail on you." I threatened lightly.

"You couldn't even if you tried." He countered back, walking away from me and locking himself in a small changing room. I could see the outline of his body, his hands removing clothes and throwing them away until only his boxers were left on. The entire thing was sensual, the ugly yellow light encasing him, showing much but not enough all at once.

When I felt myself practically drooling all over him from afar, I got up and paced around, feigning deep interest in the unknown faces etched in old pictures. Apparently, it was a classic boxing arena. I wondered if some other girl had been standing in my exact spot, developing feelings for a man she couldn't have and looking around the old room to avoid thinking about him too much.

"So, what do you think?" Harry's voice startled me, making me jump and turn around in haste. He enjoyed watching me fumble with myself, a broad grin spreading across his passive face.

Feeling my heart skip a beat, I wondered how long it had been since the last time I felt truly alive. The adrenaline pulsed inside me, making me aware of my surroundings, of Harry's naked torso and pearly teeth, his scent invading me as he took casual steps until we were side by side watching the old boxers in pictures witness our moments alone.

"That's my grandfather. He used to practice here too." He pointed to one of the black and white photos, a tall man jokingly flexing his muscles for the camera, clad in shorts and some ugly shoes that could be seen as either boots or tennis. There were small similarities between him and Harry, their carefree smile the most characteristic one. I couldn't help but grin too as I imagined his grandfather playing around with a green eyed toddler inside this same locker room.

"So boxing runs in the family." I said, turning away from the pictures and looking into his eyes. We were far too close; I could see every speck of gold inside his green irises, the small freckles atop his nose. Surprising me, he took my hand in his and entwined our fingers.