"She didn't need a sword or a crown made out of gold, but only roses and bare fists to take on the world."
"His smile. That's it. One flash of those eyes lighting up, and I'm gone."
...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The sounds of feet slapping against the rubber filled my ears as I pressed forward, ignoring the chants in the background.
My thighs burn with each sprint, but with the bend in sight, energy filled my muscles once more, and I force myself to clear it.
I can do it.
But when I made the turn, a blur passes through my vision and I cursed loudly.
The person merely laughed while I tried to catch up, stretching out my muscles as far as they could go, heart, beating fast against my ribcage.
C'mon.
Soon the etchings of the finish line are in sight and my hand stretches out in an attempt to close the gap.
"22.46 for Drake," the captain announced as we crossed the finish line, doubling over to catch our breaths.
"And Jaz, 22.50."
Not again.
"Are-" I wheezed, pain shooting through my lungs so I placed a hand on my ribs to ease my breathing. "Are...are you fucking joking?"
Their manager smiled sympathetically. "Nope. And you almost had him."
Four measly seconds!
Curses flew through my mind as I tried to even my ragged breathing, and someone clapped me on the back.
"Do you need water?"
I craned my neck up to glare at the blond whose breathing was much steadier than mine.
"No." A shaky finger pointed up at him. "What I need is another race," I pressed, standing to full height and wincing at the sudden movement. "And maybe some water."
His brow arched up at the demand. "Not happening. You're tired." Then he pointed at my arm. "Plus, injured."
My eyes darted to my arm where the plaster covered the gash ran from my wrist to the elbow from one of our rounds.
