"I don't think I've ever said this to anyone in my life, but I may truly hate you Styles!"

And he laughed, the fucker laughed and kept up the pressure on the hamstring curl he was making her perform. He called it a reverse negative, but she was entirely positive that he was a demon and she wanted to punch him. She would, if she could lift her arm when they were done.

They had started with boxing, so she wasn't sure if her arms were still functional. They may have actually turned into noodles. She couldn't feel them anyway. They might have gone past al dente to rubber mush.

This had been his surprise idea, honestly. It was the worst one she had ever gotten. She did not work out, and for the life of her Elise could not figure out why there were people who did this to themselves on purpose.

But it had started so well. For the last few days, she had woken up when she woke up and wandered down to be fed and watered by her high school crush, it had been something of a dream really. And then yesterday, they had spent all that time, well, bonding was the only word she was allowing herself to associate with the hours they spent sharing earbuds and holding hands and... She stopped herself thinking about being stretched out over him and the way the hard planes of his chest felt against her breasts and his belly moving up and down and the way her hips slipped in between the well of his legs, and down down down she went. It was about 1 am when she finally put those thoughts to bed. She'd had to take things into her own hands to finally relax.

In any case, despite how well she had slept and how pleasant and complete her dreams had been, the knock at her door was a new way to wake up. The light at the window was weaker than the previous day, diffused by the light rain she could hear. Why was he knocking? Rainy days were sleep in days, especially in quarantine, right?

"Yes?" She sat up and realized she was just wearing a thin camisole and booty shorts. When his early morning curls popped through her door frame, Elise made sure to keep the comforter up and over her visible nipples. 

"Hey," oh man, he sounded better than breakfast. Her stomach growled. "It's a little early, but I had an idea for today. Wanted you to join me. Can I come in?" He was already doing it before she gave him a green light. She supposed it could be argued it was his room.

"Sure." Her voice was creaky from disuse too. The sound and effect were different. Whereas his was honey poured over oats and smoothed out to make something delicious, hers was squeaky like a door in need of oil.

She didn't have time to think much more about his voice, and the unflattering, unfair way it compared to hers, because he had a banana and a cup of coffee for her. He presented them to her with a flourish.

"Eat a little, and drink up. Then put on.." he looked over her mostly bare shoulders and his eyes were superhero powerful, "more. And come down! We've got plans today!" He'd slapped his hands together and winked before leaving her bedside and her breathless.

Elise had gulped down the banana first and accompanied it with the bottle of water she'd brought up for the night. She was hoping her coffee would be suitably cooled by the time she finished so she could join Harry.

"Phewwwwwww," she blew. "Phewwwww." The dark liquid rippled like the ocean while she blew and then reverse blew when she drank it too hot. Her tongue would have a dead spot for a bit. She frowned thinking of the flavors she'd miss out on. Was that a set of sweet taste buds, or sour?

The brush had caught on snags near the ends of her hair and she'd had to slow herself down and do it right before she balded herself. "Slow." She breathed.  It's not like he went out and bought brunch. They were on full lockdown. Though she thinks today is S day. Symptoms day, Harry seemed fine, and she was only short of breath because of him.

Boy was Elise right about that. He had made her breathless in multiple upsetting sweaty ways. None of which had been playing on her mind last night when she diddled herself to sleep.

She'd come downstairs in a little dress, something comfy for lounging all day, it felt nice to put in effort.

"No, you gotta change," was all he'd said. She noticed he was wearing workout tights, shorts, and a tank. She mostly noticed the tank.

"What's wrong with my dress?" She picked at the hem.

"Nothing, except you don't want to get it grimy. Put on sport leggings and a top." Then his face went a little red. "Maybe a sports bra."

She didn't have a sports bra. But she had a top with one built in. She owned some workout clothes, but they were for lounging. Elise never worked out in them. Elise never worked out.

She was slightly less excited when she came back down the second time. Though her coffee was easy to suck down when she went upstairs. She guessed now she'd need it.

"Better." He nodded and led her to a part of the house she hadn't seen. Through his beautiful bedroom with the giant dark headboarded bed.

Wowzers. She'd think about that later..

The room beyond it was better than the gym at her dorms.

There was a stationary bike that looked very high tech and a treadmill and a rig in the center with a variety of pull bars and ropes and branded red bands.

"Um, what are we doing?" She asked. Her voice was still creaky, but mostly from nerves. Elsie was about to embarrass herself.

"Well, I thought we'd warm up on the treadmills, then we can do some weights. Maybe intervals? What do you want to do?" She wanted to go back to bed.

Instead she said. "That sounds ok." Not that she had anything to compare it to. She supposed she had played soccer until she was a sophomore in high school. It gave her hope for her upcoming bout with the treadmill.

Hope was fleeting. By minute two her legs were heavy and she wanted to stop. There was pressure on her forehead as sweat popped through her skin and the first several droplets hit her eyes. That stung. Why did people do this on purpose?

Harry clearly did this on purpose, a lot. Her machine had a proud 6.0 on its speed read, and she definitely was not going to be able to maintain this. Harry's said an insane 8.0, she couldn't even imagine, and he was sailing along. There weren't any beads of sweat on his forehead. He looked as though he could do this all day.

He could.

She turned down her machine and truly almost lay down and thanked God, who she had serious doubts about, as soon as the ten minutes Harry called "warming up" was over. She had blown past warm to blazing.

She was sucking oxygen aggressively, trying not to be obvious about it, when the towel hit her in the face. "I thought we'd hit legs. Not that you need it." He looked her up from the floor and she gulped, ok. She'd do legs. Would he look at her legs like that again during?

He did, there had been moments, like when he said she only had to run for 2 minutes between circuits, or when he had her doing leg lifts, he clarified the ones for legs not abs, like she knew the difference, where he definitely looked at her. She could feel where his eyes had been, even when she didn't catch his gaze in the huge wall of mirrors or saw him
When they faced each other. Her skin heated itself like the sun had just glanced off it when she pulled herself out of the pool to dry.

She'd been most shaken when they were looking at each other. It had started silly, giggly. They were on opposite sides of a yoga mat doing something Harry kept calling RDL's and they came nose to nose. The first time she knocked she'd forehead into his on purpose, but the maintained eye contact took the breath she had needed to laugh.

It was probably set three or so when the oxygen vacated the room. Elise was moving faster than him.

"Slow." He said, and it was deeper, like his morning voice.

"What?" She was on her way back up.

"You need to slow down. Are you even feeling that in your hamstrings?"

"Honestly, I'm not even sure where my hamstrings are, Harry!" She kind of laughed. Back of legs, she vaguely recalled.

He put down his kettlebell. She didn't know that those got that big and said. "Can I touch you?"

Um, what? But his hand was already moving, and she nodded, she thought. I mean her brain was screaming yes, but her mouth didn't move, except her jaw had gone slack. She hoped she wasn't drooling.

His hand started in the bend of her knee, "you should feel a pull at least here," he was midway up the back of her leg, "and up as far as here, even, sorry." He said when he got to the place that if you squinted was her ass.

"Um, ok, not, I didn't really feel anything there." Except a massive amount of heat right now, but it was not up the backs of her legs but solely between them, and it had zero to do with any weight but what she imagined his body on top of hers would feel like.

"I'll show you." His voice had to have dropped into the pit of her stomach, right, that was the feeling she was encountering. It was good if he showed her and took his scalding hands off the back of her legs or she would be moving them, forcibly, to the place they joined her body. "Grip it like this. And then press the iron into your upper thighs." Press it to her upper thighs, got it. She was really conscious of that area right now. Yeah the metal was there. "Then slide down the front of your legs with it. Keep the pressure up. Do you feel a pull?"

"Ye-yeah," she swallowed the word. A pull like he was the shore and she was the wave.

"K, you can reverse the motion then." They were nearly nose to nose again and both a little breathless from the exertion. She felt her muscles talk, her hamstrings, lower back, her ass, pelvic floor, and her internal monologue was full of visions. That bench the floor, the mirrors, the flat surfaces and the not so flat surfaces were making her desire speak up. Harry was talking too. "K, now just do it 9 more times."

She was absolutely not going to be able to slide down her legs while looking at him without embarrassing herself, or kissing him, which was the same thing she supposed, nine more times.

Elise was glad when he put his weight down, until he walked around her and placed his hand on her lower back. The entire center of her body was molten. She yelped.  He ignored it, and she was grateful he gave her that little bit of dignity.

"Here, you feel it here too?"

"Mmmm-hmmmm." She felt everything everywhere.

"And here?" Holy fuck! That was the back of her thigh and she wanted to shift but instead she shook her head and basically wagged her tail. "What about? What about your, um, your ass, when you stand up. Think about what you're working."

That left her speechless for a moment. "Are you thinking about my ass?" She finally joked to break the tension.

He laughed and she figured it was more like getting to the good part of a creme brûlée than breaking a pane of glass, though still a cracking sound.

"Hey," he protested between chortles. "I'm just trying to give you a good workout."

Elsie knew just the kind she wanted. "Sure Harry." Her eye roll let her see the back of her eyelids. Make a joke, make it light, she reminded herself. Don't straddle him on that bench. Right there to your left. Don't ever think about it.

Her legs were jelly. She finished her set and sat across from him where he had apparently abandoned his. They laughed a little together. And he just grinned and got up after slapping his thighs, his shorts had ridden a little and the white tights were pretty translucent with sweat. She saw him shake his head, she wasn't sure at what, chose not to let her mind fill in possible reasons. The hope they were like her own was too compelling.

Was she imagining the tension? Their gaze, their jokes, their interaction, it felt charged with possibility, knife edge walk between silly and sultry. He'd been looking, right. Her ass, she didn't find it laughable, but she realized there was a mirror behind her, so he may have had a better view of it than her. She needed to get out of the way of this train of thought, but she was tied to its tracks. She looked at him, which was not a help. He ran his hand over her shoulder and they looked at each other a long moment before he walked away. She was finally about to exhale when his voice flew her gaze.

"What if I was?" He asked.

"What?" She had no idea where his mind was at. Really just struck by his open face and the hooded green of his eyes, Robin Hood of her senses.

"Thinking about your ass?" He tilted his chin a little. "You didn't seem to mind." He shrugged and walked out.

Elise collapsed on the black bench. She was already feeling the ache in her muscles and she was effectively sitting on an orange. This fucker. So what if I was? He asks.

She wanted to scream back. 'Well, do something about it.' Seemed a little Aggro. Her cheeks were red as beets from that comment more than her first workout in ages. She lay there for a while and pressed her cold water bottle to her face. She would say the paper ones didn't have the same relief factor as the plastic bottles.

After reliving her mortification for a tad too long, she snuck to her room to let off pressure and let the hot steaming water release her muscles. Her stomach was in knots from the ab rollouts he had her on after she had laughed her ass off when he suggested she do leg raises on his pull up bar. Her abdomen was tight, and her lower body bound up, tense. She seriously was concerned she may not be able to walk down the stairs tomorrow.

Elise indulged a momentary fancy where Harry carried her down the stairs bridal style for day six of quarantine. This was his fault after all. Then that turned into him carrying her up, but with her hitched up his hips to her bedroom. No! His bedroom, that big headboard where her rolls back eyes settled. She shook that one off.

She needed to stretch. She took advantage of the pounding water, he had amazing water pressure, it eased out all her kinks. She stood with her back to it and let it pound her posterior. That needed a rephrasing, even in her mind. It took her forever to figure out there was an attachment that came off the rain style shower head. That was handy for getting to her thighs, and such.

After her shower, she laid on the fluffy top of Harry's comforter and considered napping. She wasn't tired, but she was, embarrassed, wasn't quite the right word.

Elise was interested.

Which wasn't a surprise, and not necessarily embarrassing, not so much, not yet, but if she leaned into it, she had no doubt, if she spent more time with him it would get worse. Surely it would cross the line into humiliating if they had too many more interactions like this mornings and they had days left together. They weren't even halfway through this and she was smitten. Elise knew herself, she was not cool. Her best friend in high school, Molly, had always harped on her about being too obvious. "Show just enough interest, but basically act like you can't give a fuck, and they will be all over you."

She was usually not interested at all, not much. The few times it had been different it was radically humiliating. Elise was embarrassingly blushy and hanging from their words like a rock climber, following them constantly and interested in their interests. She had no middle ground. Distraction and time were all that really worked for her in the long term when she eventually got rejected because she was extra in her attention.

She was out of books. Thank god she had her phone, she downloaded the next one on her own reading list, and read.

She probably would have stayed in her room the rest of the night, had her stomach not growled. Elise tried to ignore it, but she had always been an eater, hungry like all the time. The joke in her family, once upon a time, had been that if you could see her she was hungry.

She was almost off the stairs when the last step groaned loudly. Elise could hear Harry, he was singing softly to Simon and Garfunkel. If she could hear him, he could hear her. Maybe he'd let her get away with it: she was gonna remember that traitorous step from now on.

Except, he met her in the kitchen.

"Hiya! I made food!" He looked really happy to see her. For someone she would have sworn was introverted 4 years ago, he seemed keen on company.

He pulled out salad he'd made and the toppings in all the little bowls. "So you want Perrier, or plain water, or wine?"

He was being very solicitous, maybe this was a bit of an I'm sorry for teasing, or for making your body hate you. Elise was going to let him off the hook. "How do you think real water feels about being called plain? Seems unfair."

"Basic?" He smirked and turned around to grab her a carton.

"Essential."

"Simple, that's the highest praise I'll go." He pointed and his dimples were a warning, she was gonna get a laugh.

"Tough critic!" She finished washing her hands and began making her salad.

He burst with the brewing laugh and she smiled and chuckled with him. He was lovely to be around, it was a shame about his face. She wished she could just enjoy his friendship.

"Maybe I have discerning tastes!" He giggled.

She plucked up some of the red things from the small blue bowl they were in. "No one who likes beets on salad has any taste at all!" She countered.

"Fine, that's a challenge. We are gonna watch my favorite show, then you are gonna eat your words!" His face bloomed under the joke he found. "And beets for dinner!"

"Nope, not happening!" She sat down and sipped her water just the way Molly would have advised, like he wasn't the cutest thing she had ever seen, and it was more interesting.

"Eat your salad, I'm setting up the viewing room." He strode off.

"Viewing room? Since when? It's the living room."

"Today, it's the viewing room! We can't have it be basic!" He called back.

She ate her salad slower than normal, her smile made it hard to chew.

Later, she was chewing her beets, and they tasted better than she remembered. "The priest really is so hot." She said around a mouthful.

Harry lifted his wine, and they cheersed. "So hot."