Football L.S. ✔

8- Wrist ties and Head Bumps

"Wh-what is that for?" He asks, looking at the thin rope Louis has in his possession.

"Well, since you can't seem to keep your hands away from your head, I'm going to tie your wrists. But since you want to act disrespectful, I think we'll use it for more than that." Louis smirks.

Harry whimpers. "No, I'm sorry. Just- we can finish practice. I won't say anything else."

"Oh, now that your incentive lies in front of you, you want to behave?" Louis asks, rolling his eyes.

"Okay, but I didn't think you'd tie me!"

"Your wrists Harold. I'm not tying you to a damn bed." Louis sighs shortly before responding. "Now, I'm going to tie your wrists behind your back, then you're going to do... hmm.. name a number."

"2." Harry responds, sort of catching on to what Louis was referring to.

"22 squats, then we will finish practice. Sound okay to you?" Louis half-asks, letting Harry give an opinion.

"No." He mumbles.

"And why not? Do you not think you deserve it?" Louis questions, holding a hand up to his face and placing his other on his hip.

"I mean-" Harry starts but sighs, defeated. "Yes sir."

"Good lad." Louis pats Harry's hip before turning the boy himself. Harry almost stumbles as he spins forcefully, but catches himself and stands straight.

Louis, again, takes a hold on Harry's wrists and holds them together firmly. He then wraps the rope around Harry's hands and Harry let's them lie limply because has no other use for them besides to let Louis do what he is doing.

When Louis finishes he turns Harry again abruptly making him fall forward, and unable to balance himself without the use of his hands. He gasps as he falls hard and braces for impact that never comes. Instead, firm hands are on his shoulders, standing him straight again.

Harry huffs in annoyance that the situation had to happen in the first place. All because of Louis and his stupid rules.

"Now what are you pouting for?" Louis asks curiously.

"Cos." Harry huffs simply.

"That's not very specific, is it?"

"You didn't ask for it to be." Harry snaps.

Louis' somewhat playful demeanor immediately switches off and he becomes strict again. "Keep that cheek up and I'll be taping your mouth."

Harry rolls his eyes, but Louis is already turned around, headed back to the field. Harry follows him reluctantly.

"Squats. Now." Louis demands.

Harry sighs but carefully balances himself as he lowers himself towards the ground with his legs. He's shaky, but manages to lift himself up again.

"Faster Harold, we haven't got all day."

Harry continues his squats until his legs are burning and he reaches his number. He's sweating, but can't wipe it off his forehead.

"Can you get this right now?" Louis asks picking up the ball and ignoring Harry's tired state.

"Hopefully." Harry responds to himself, panting.

Louis ignores him but throws the ball at Harry. Harry tries but fails at hitting the ball. His face catches it instead and he winces.

"Again Harold, kick me the ball." Louis instructs.

Harry huffs, face sore, but turns and kicks the ball. Louis picks it up and Harry expects it this time so as the ball is immediately thrown towards him, he head bumps it, but it doesn't go far. He is proud of himself nonetheless for hitting the ball with his head.