ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ - ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ

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𝗦he kept her eyes trained on the wall ahead of her as she zoned out on everything around her and focused solely on the pull-ups she was performing

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𝗦he kept her eyes trained on the wall ahead of her as she zoned out on everything around her and focused solely on the pull-ups she was performing. Sweat dripped off her forehead, out from under the muffs of her headphones, and seeped on her upper lip.

Her arms strained with each curl-up, but all of them gave her mental liberation. As she tugged on the metal bar, she crossed her legs at the ankle; the more she did, the more effort she needed to complete another one. Still, she was ten in and she had a goal of fifteen.

Ever since her fight with Rueben almost three weeks ago, she's buried herself in work and the personal home gym. She had already come to terms with the fact that she was going downhill; whether that was a result of her depression, or her inability to consistently take care of herself, she had no clue, but she wasn't going to let it win.

Her abs burned as she clenched her jaw and rose her chin above the bar for the thirteenth time. Her former spaghetti noodle arms were a work in progress, but that progress was already showing. It was uplifting to see herself accomplish something she mentally blocked herself from doing in the past.

Fourteen, she counted in her head.

Rayne dangled from the bar, working out the strength in her fingers as she breathed heavily and attempted to collect her breath without dropping. The tips of her high tops almost touched the crate she had underneath her body as she was too short to reach the bar under normal circumstances.

She was two seconds from readying herself to pull up again when a tap on her shoulder had her spinning in fear. Her headphones were noise-canceling, and since she chose to face the wall to avoid these exact distractions, calling herself scared was an understatement.

"Oh, fuck!" she yelped, losing her grip.

"Shit," familiar hands wrapped around her wet waist, "I didn't mean to startle you."

Rayne, feet on the ground now, pulled a piece of blonde hair out of her face as she looked up to meet her maker. She focused on folding down the top of part of her leggings, letting her body sweat and cool itself as she looked at Rueben; his eyes were on her face, yet the corners of her lips were upturning as she knew just how much he wished he was looking elsewhere.

"Can I help you?" she asked, pulling her headphones off her ears, and resting them on her neck.

"U-uhm—" he stuttered.

"C'mon," she rolled her eyes, grabbing her towel off the seat nearby, "You interrupted me in the middle of a PR, just to stutter? I have better things to do, Rueben."

Looking up at him as he shifted on his feet, she could see the change in expression cross his face. While she wouldn't admit it out loud to him for obvious reasons, she was glad that he approached her, no matter what she was doing. The last two and a half weeks without talking to one another, seeing each other, or even sleeping in the same room has been harder than she cared to voice.

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