"i'm not scared of you, or the blood you have on your hands, or the fear you hide behind your knuckles. you're quiet, and naive, yet you've seen all the dangerous depths of the world. it makes you dark, disruptive. nevertheless, i cannot be scared o...
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My bare foot pressed against the concrete. The cnostalgia was rushing back to me. I remembered how hard the floor was, and the numbness that would spread across my body the moment my head hit the floor. I remembered staring at my opponent like they were a feast, using my agility as an advantage and pouncing on them whatever chance I got.
"3 seconds on the ground and it'll be an automatic loss, winner decides whether to take the money or move on to the next round" The man hollered. I balled my fist, sliding into a stance I was familiar with. I scanned my opponent. He had a buff body, lean arms and rough fists. He can easily be deciphered as someone who often fought others.
He was a man I once fought before, and won, for that matter. Though, that was years ago and I can barely remember the pain he put me through.
"Winwin" The man sneered, adding a slight chuckle at the tail of my name "I remember vividly the competitions we had back then"
I clenched my fist, circling around the ring. My eyes were sharp; I could not afford to lose focus.
"You were so scrawny back then. Like a little bug that crawled across the floor" He threw a punch, I ducked "But I underestimated you before. I never knew a bug could be so deadly. You threw punches harder than rock and your legs were faster than a bull"
I attacked his arm, then went straight for his head. He was way faster than me.
"You've become weaker, Winwin" My opponent mocked, grabbing me by my waist and throwing me towards the ground. The ground was so cold, and hard. I hated this feelings so much. It felt like years ago where I had done this type of stuff to people every month, if not, weeks.
Just like that, we threw each other around, and shoved each other. I saw his blood and I saw my own. It was purely round 1 and I could feel my life slip away from me. My punches were hard nonetheless, and the training I had once endured came rushing back at me like muscle memory. This life had once been so familiar to me, but now I was reliving the history I had tried so hard to escape.
With one lethal punch, I knocked his nose and his head snapped back. As if shot in a movie, his body fell in slow-motion. He was out for one second, two, three seconds. I won. This gruesome battle; I had won. And the bruises and wounds across my body reminded that I had dove myself back into this gruelling game of bloodshed.
On the floor, was the man I punched for money.
•••
I shoved open the classroom door. I was dead tired, and I would surely get investigated if I returned to my dorm. I just wanted a place to tend to my wounds.
As I dropped my bag and stood up to get the first aid kit, I toppled over, the ache from my legs and the multiple bruises in my body not letting me stand back up.
"Fuck" I tried to push myself up with my palms, but my palms were covered in callouses and scabs. Giving up, I lay on the ground, staying at the flickering ceiling lights. I rose my hands against the lights, letting it cast a shadow down on my face. These pair of hands are so dirty, so greedy and so bloody. I hate these pair of hands.
The door creaked open, a light tapping sound ringing in the room. I whipped my head up, looking at whoever walked through the door. It was her. I scrambled up to my feet, almost tripping over as pain struck through my body but I was careful not to make a sound. I didn't want her to worry.
"Uh Hey- Hi" I stuttered, shuffling back and sitting down, swiftly grabbing my duffel bag and throwing it into the corner. She heard the thump, but she didn't think too much about it.
"Where were you yesterday?" She immediately recognised that I was there, taking a seat beside me.
"At work" I mumbled.
"For the whole night?"
"How did you know I was out all night..."
"I was waiting for you"
My heart skipped a beat "I stayed over somewhere else yes-"
"I need help with another character so I might need you as a reference again" She explained, opening her briefcase full of equipment.
"Sure" Hurriedly, I tried to wipe of the remaining blood left dripping along my lips. She smiled at me, pushing her chair closer to mine.
"I need a model for the body, so I'll just trace your arm and hand" She gave me a reassuring smile, then first located my arm, slowly running her fingers up to my elbow and then towards my shoulder.
"Oh here we go" I muttered, sighing to rid of the nervousness that exploded in my stomach. Though that was short lived when her hand trailed down to mine, her thumb running along my knuckles. I flinched, provoking her to furrow her eyebrows.
"What happened to..." She flashed her eyes upwards, her thumb running down my jaw and her index falling at my lips. She stopped the moment she felt a scab.
"Uh Sooah" I took her hands off me, standing up flustered.
"Where did you actually go yesterday?" Her face etched with concern, leaning forwards to grab my arm yet again. I couldn't bare to push her off.
"I got in a fight with a bunch of drunkies" I lied, flinching as her finger grazed over a couple bruises.
"This doesn't feel like just a fight Winwin, this is a brutal wrestling competition"
She wasnt entirely wrong.
"I'm fine-"
"Stay here" She stood up, feeling her way towards the door and left. I let out a breath, I knew this was going to happen one day. Leaning back on my hands, I hid my smile. I did hate myself for worrying her, but that feeling when all she cared about was me, was amazing.
She soon returned with a box in her hands, opening it swiftly and running her thumbs over the labels.
"I used to always get hurt when I first came to this school so I used this kit often" She twisted over a cap, placing her finger over a cotton swob in which she poured the alcohol over swob, drizzling slightly over her own finger
Her free hand made its way to mine, holding it within her grasps.
"This'll hurt a bit" She murmured, using both her hands to clasp my face, gently locating the wounds on my face. Her finger rested on my lips, the cotton bud dabbing softly against the corner of my lip. I couldn't breathe. She was close. I was staring at her as if she were a magnificent gem that sparkled even at night. Her lashes were long, her cheeks a pale pink. I wanted so desperately to run my fingers through her hair and hold her by the jaw to plant my first ever kiss. It was so tempting.
Pain was no longer an issue to me replaced with the thrashing of my heartbeat and the slight tremble in my fingers. I stared into her eyes like there were waves crashing against the lens. Her irises hid a sunset and shone with the dashing sun. Such beauty was alluring. Sometimes, beauty is danger.
