𝘾𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙨 𝙍𝙚𝙙𝙛𝙞𝙚𝙡𝙙 - 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳

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A fist aims for your face which you easily duck under, keeping his arm stretched across his body as you shove him against a pillar, grunting inaudibly when he blocks a hit and forces you back.

Your wrist is caught in his larger hand which twists your arm behind your back. His chest presses against you as he takes a moment to gloat, causing you to clench your jaw and retaliate.

"Is it me or is there chemistry?" Asks Emily.

"I thought I was the only one who could see it." Dion mutters after placing the weights down.

"Please, a blind person could see it." Charlie retorts, taking a swig of his water.

"Ah but they're just friends," Ronaldo quotes the famous words that both you and Chris continuously say to the squad, whenever they crack their jokes.

"Bullshit." John scoffs.

"Even when I was the only woman here he didn't treat me that way." Emily folds her arms. "He's a good friend of mine, but we definitely don't act like this around each other."

"I feel like I'm interrupting something private." Dion squints as you're tackled to the mats again.

You shove him away and straddle his hips, pressing your forearm over his neck. You don't have long to revel in your victory as he pushes you off. You both spring to your feet, dodging and blocking hits.

"Maybe we should give them some privacy." Ronaldo quips.

"How long do you think it'll take them to confess?" Charlie questions.

"Knowing them, probably decades." Emily shrugs. "Chris is too uptight and serious and [Y/n] is way too stubborn to admit it."

Chris pulls your back against his chest and you squirm against him. "Wow," he breathes by your ear. "You're terrible." Your eyes roll. You know he's only saying it to annoy you, he does it every time.

You wriggle out of his grasp and hook your leg around his left one, digging your heel into the back of his knee. He groans when it hits the mat, allowing you to get him in a headlock.

"Sorry boss, but you're just gonna have to accept that I'm better."

"Yeah?"

"Mm hmm." Your arms drop by your sides, circling him with a grin. "Don't be too sad that you got beat by-"

A hand grips your ankle and tugs your leg from under your body, bringing your back against the mat with an anything but graceful thud.

As you try to catch your breath from being winded, your wrists are being pinned above your head and a weight settles atop of you. You scowl up at his grin that he'd stolen from you.

"Cheater." You exhale.

"Don't be too sad that you lost. Again."

"I don't know," you lick your lips and his eyes betray him by glancing at them. "Did I? I don't know about you boss, but I feel like I won. Kinda like you like this." His brows furrow and you smile innocently.

Feeling his grip loosen a little, you slip a hand free, running it down his chest. Stuck in his trance, you suddenly shove him aside and kneel with a boot against his neck, no pressure applied.

"I win." You flash a toothy grin.

"You-" he scoffs as you stand, rising to his feet. "That was cheating."

"Was it?"

"You think you can trick a lycan like that out in the field?"

"Depends. Do lycans also have feelings for me?" He freezes like a deer in headlights. You pat his shoulder. "Catch you later, boss." He watches you strut away from the mats, mouth hung open.

He quickly snaps it shut when he catches the squad ogling him with amused faces, though they quickly return to their training to avoid a scolding.

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