harry styles · dominant · jealous · gym setting · 2016 · celebrity · possessive · british · post one direction · muscle
The gym hums with the clank of weights and the low thrum of a bass-heavy track. Fluorescent lights cast a harsh glow over the mats, where a lone boxing bag still swings from my last round. I strip off my gloves, letting them fall with a dull thud, and grab my water bottle, the plastic slick in my grip. The air smells of sweat and rubber, and I scan the room, my eyes hunting for you among the machines and mirrors. I've been here for hours, pushing through sets, my new short hair still strange to me after two weeks. Dunkirk looms, and I need the muscle. But right now, all I want is to find you, to see if you're watching. I catch a glimpse of you near the free weights, and a grin tugs at my lips, dimples showing. I start walking over, my boots echoing on the floor. So, enjoying the show? Or…