Dancing With The Devil

devil eyes

"Sometimes one look can say more than a thousand words» - Unknown

Song: Devil eyes- Hippie Sabotage
————————————————————————

I took a deep breath and locked eyes with my opponent. That fucker was going to need facial surgeries after I was done with him. To be honest I would be doing him a favor. Maybe they would be able to fix his smug face.

Then the bell went off.

We circled each other, he threw the first punch and I gracefully ducked.

He threw another, this time I blocked with my left arm and threw a right hook aiming straight for his jaw. He looked surprised. ''Bitch, you didn't think a girl could hit this hard, huh?'' I teased. He growled and launched out at me, I laughed and ducked again. In the position I was standing in now I had a view straight into the VIP lounge. I took a quick glance up there. Nope, they were still not watching the match. That micro bit of a second costed me my focus and I wasn't able to get out of the way fast enough for the next punch, so he hit me in the ribcage, hard. Ouch. It hurt like a motherfucker, but I didn't let it show.

I knew that boxing was 50% a psychological game. That's the reasoning behind all the shit talking. I aimed for his chin next and punched all I could. If you ever want to knock down someone twise your size, always aim for the chin because that's the only place on the human body where strenght doesn't matter. I could never beat him in strength, so I had to use my skills as well as my psychological game to fuck with his head.

He fell to the ground and stayed there. Pussy

The announcer counted to three and yelled "1-0 to «The Devil»"

The stadium exploded into noise; yells and whistling. They seemed surprised. Watch and learn bitches.

He got up, I hadn't been able to knock him out completely, but still it was enough for me to win the first round. I smirked at him and blew him a kiss. ''You bitch, you were just lucky, I was cutting you some slack so you wouldn't start crying like the little girl you are" he yelled. I laughed in his face "the sweat dripping down from your ugly ass forehead begs to differ" he couldn't come up with a comeback fast enough, so I just continued "well dumbface show me what you've got then before this "little girl" knocks you the fuck out" I yelled for the whole stadium to hear. Suddenly the whole place went silent. Everyone was watching my every move, even the stuck-up dickheads in the VIP lounge seemed to suddenly be interested in the fight. I could feel their eyes on me.

The announcer blew the whistle and round two began.

"Come on babygirl, can you do this without your daddy? Why isn't he here with you? He didn't want to look at you embarrasing yourself?» he mocked.

I felt the adrenaline and anger rise inside of me. He would NOT mention my father like that, and get away with it. I launched out all I could against him and hit a knockout. I smiled as I saw him fall to the ground. That's what you get fucker. ''KNOCKOUT" the announcer yelled, meaning I won. All I needed was for him to fuel my fire, his psychological games didn't work on me, in fact they had the complete opposite effect. I fucking won! ''And the winner is, with the most powerful knockout I've ever seen, «THE DEVIL!»''. The crowd went absolutely crazy. I looked around, feeling the admiriation from every corner of the stadium.

I looked up to show my middle finger to the VIP douches, but one of them was walking down from the lounge and into the crowd and he caught my attention. Then, I locked eyes with the most handome man I had ever seen. His eyes were so piercing, I felt them burning into mine. It was impossible to look away, they were so special, I had never seen anything quite like that. They looked golden, with a hint of orange? Or maybe it was yellow? I couldn't tell. They reminded me of devil eyes. Like they had no mercy. They were so cold. Yet they seemed to set mine on fire. They were staring back at me full of amusement? Hate? Again, I couldn't tell. I was truly fascinated. And here I thought my blue eyes were special, I guess not.

The eyes belonged to a tall man, probably like 6,3 or 6,4, but he looked really young. He couldn't be much older than 19.. But still there was something intimidating about him. Like he knew that he was the shit. He walked like he owned the whole room, even though I was the one who just won a match against a man twice my size.

He looked really strong, his muscles showing through his shirt, he had tattoos all over his arms and I could see them stretching over his collar bone as well. He had dark brown, almost black hair that stood perfectly against his tan skin. And of course, the most perfect face that looked like it was taken straight out of a Vogue magazine. His eyebrows were furrowed and his look had now changed into something that looked like fear? No, that couldn't be right?
But before I had the chance to understand what I saw in those dark eyes he suddenly looked away and then I lost him in the crowd. Fuck.