Arabelle Vine, a 22 year old photographer in Seattle Washington, is happy with her current life. She has friends, a great family, and a job she loves. But Arabelle wants to be more than just content with her life. She wants excitement, and she wants...
Song: Smoke- son mix remix by BOBI ANDONOV, son mix
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I couldn't even begin to explain to you what just happened.
The warning bell just rang for round 8. I've been crushing Shaw this entire match. He's definitely a good fighter, but he hints at his every move. He's gotten a couple nasty hits so far, I have a cut on my lip and I can feel a bruise forming on the side of my stomach. My head is pounding from when he kicked my legs out from underneath of me. The side of my head had slammed onto the floor of the ring.
As I'm stepping up about to tap gloves with Shaw, I turn my head to the right to crack my sore neck.
But as I turn I make direct eye contact with a camera.
The camera flashes and then moves out of the way and my eyes lock on the most beautiful girl I've ever seen.
It's as if the world slows down for the split second as I look at her. The room around the ring is completely dark, but the bright lights shining down on the ring light up the first row of the crowd just enough for me to see how beautiful she is.
But just as quick as I turn towards the girl, my eyes land back on a smirking Shaw right in front of me.
"She's hot." He says, holding up his gloves for me to tap as the bell sounds.
We tap gloves and circle each other, the blinding lights beating down on us. Beads of sweat trickle down my back, and the side of my head.
It's not long before I notice his left foot move slightly inward and he throws a right hook towards the side of my head. I duck below his arm and quickly swing my right arm up for an uppercut.
It's to quick for him to prepare for and I hear him groan as my fist slams into his jaw. The punch causes him to stumble backwards the slightest bit, but he quickly regains his stance.
He quickly throws a feint punch, faking me out. I throw my right hand across my chest to block the blow but it never comes. Making me unprepared for when he delivers a right cross. His fist connects with my left shoulder making me spin and fall against the ropes, the front of my body facing the crowd. I slowly turn back around to face Shaw.
He has me cornered and the smirk on his face let's me know he's getting to cocky. Out of the entire match tonight, this is the first time he's really had me. I've had him already on the ground, on his stomach and back multiple times tonight.
"Getting tired?" He chuckles as he delivers a quick uppercut to my face, and a low blow just after it.
The low blow barely moves me, but I can already feel my jaw bruising up.
"Don't get to cocky Shaw." I sneer, I slowly move my leg in between his two, and uppercut him in the jaw.
The punch moves him backward and he stumbles over my leg that was in between his. He is unable to stop himself as he falls backwards. His back collides with the floor and I don't hesitate to throw punch after punch. Shaw throws his arms up in defense, but it's no use.
