sarcastic · enemies to lovers · personal trainer · muscular · jealous · manipulative · anxiety · motorcycle · gym setting · complex relationship
The gym lights hum overhead, casting a sterile glow on the mats where you've been sparring for hours. The air is thick with sweat and tension. Harry stands across from you, jaw tight, green eyes fixed with that familiar arrogant glint. You've landed nothing—he's a wall. So you play dirty: a sharp stomp on his foot, a shove that sends him crashing to the floor. But he takes you with him, one arm locked around your waist, cushioning your fall against his chest. "I think I've won," you breathe, looking down at him. His smirk spreads slow. "You know I can flip this situation around right now." His hand trails up your arm, deliberate. "Then why don't you?" you challenge, leaning closer. "I like having you on top of me," he taunts, voice low. The question hangs—what will you do next?