The gambling man (OP Male Reader X Esdeath) Akame ga kill fanfiction

Chapter Eleven Point Five: Man To Man (Part One)

Bulat pants heavily, his hot breath washing over the base of your neck as his rippling muscles strain against the force of your strike.

With his biceps and triceps locked, he smirks, before forcing you back with a mighty swing of his staff.

You effortlessly twirl through the air before skidding to a hault, staring Bulat down as you wipe the musk from your face and spit the salty taste of sweat from your mouth.

You both stand in defiance of the other, Bulat's bare chest rhythmically pulsing as he pants. While you stretch out your shoulders; placing an arm across your chest, wrapping your other arm across the bulging limb and twisting your toned back to help stretch out the ache from your last attack.

Bulat: "Why do I get the feeling that this is all a game to you?" Bulat asks as he smiles charmingly at you.

(Y/fn): "It was you who said we should do some sparing up in the mountains. You can't blame me for having some fun." You retort.

Bulat makes his way over to the rucksacks you both brought and pulls out two pouches of water, before tossing one to you and plopping onto a nearby rock.

You choose to remain standing as you drain the cool contents of your pouch down your throat (and pour a little over your head). "If it makes you feel any better; my training, as a child, consisted of sparing with the Palace's most elite guards. For at least three hours a day. Every day. Since I was ten." Bulat chuckles.

Bulat: "That does help soften the blow, somewhat." He admits.

You smile and shake out your wet hair before taking a good, long look around you.

You can feel the calm winds wash over your bare chest, cooling your burning muscles further. The whole thing feels like a lullaby that draws you to the edge of the cliffside (luckily, you remember to stop yourself before you drop off the edge).

From where you stand, you have a breathtaking view of the world around you, amplified by the almost cloudless skies beneath you.

The forest stretches far. An endless veil of green that dissapears far beyond the horizon (a far-cry from the harsh sands of Xerksia). In the distance you can see the top of the Palace. From this distance you would swear it almost looks beautiful. You can also just barely make out the outline of Night Raid's Base, nestled deep withing the treeline.

You close your eyes and take in a deep lungfull of air. You can taste how fresh it is, as it cools your throat (despite how thin it is).

But it is also then, that a horrible memory intrudes into the forefront of your mind.

All of a sudden, you can hear the sound of shouting and screams. The roar of something monstrous. And for a moment, you feel like you're back there.

But you shake the unwanted images away with a low, rumbling growl. Annoyed that the entire affair has left a rather unpleasant afterthought bouncing through your mind.

It's only when you feel heat on your shoulder, and the tight grip of Bulat's reassuring hand, that you truly snap out of your stupor.

Bulat: "What's the matter?" He questions. His tone nothing but serious.

(Y/fn): "It's nothing." You reply sharply, returning your gaze to the distance.

Bulat: "If you say so. But it really isn't a good idea to keep heavy thoughts to yourself." You gently brush off his touch with a heavy sigh, discretely running your thumb down the length of your largest scar. "Does it have something to do with how you got that?" Bulat suddenly asks. Clearly, you weren't discreet enough.