𝗕𝗨𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘

𝟰𝟲. 𝗖𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘂𝗽

Is it better to be the one doing the action or the one watching it? It's a question I've wondered when it comes to almost every stressful situation but today has confirmed my answer, it's at least a hundred times worse being the watcher.

Because watching the beads of blood drip down Graysons face is far worse than feeling it, being able to wipe it away and not have to witness the state of your face. Being a watcher means you're at a complete loss of control, you physically cannot do anything but watch, observe, witness. You don't know how the doer is feeling, whether they're as shaken up with nerves as yourself, or experiencing an internal buzz of confidence.

Being a watcher is a greater task than this whole match in itself, and honestly, I don't know if I can watch anymore.

"Ah you sick cunt." That marks the fifth time Kinglsey's reused his famous phrase in the last ten minutes, but I'm too overwhelmed with anxiety and a disgusting weight of nausea to care to tell him to shut up. Instead, I clutch onto Kaylees hand even tighter than before when Miles has managed to manoeuvre himself out of the corner, and is beginning to make sharp actions towards Grayson again.

We all thought Grayson was preparing for knock out right before Miles attacked like a wild dog let loose; hence why it came as even more of a shock. One minute Grayson had the upper hand, the next scarlett was beginning to break through the surface of his skin. Miles must have caught his glove on his cheek from a dangerous angle to cause a cut like that, I'm not entirely sure how it's possible but I've both seen and heard of it happening to others so I won't lose sleep over it.

Grayson reclaimed his lead in this fight only for it to be taken again, they're up to each others neck at 3-3 and with only two rounds left, pressure is an understatement as to what we're all feeling right now. He says something to Miles, arms wide and taunting before Miles joins him in the middle of the ring and they have at it. The most fighting done this whole match.

Miles is desperately searching for a good spot, anything and anywhere to strike whilst Graysons dominance shines as he pushes Miles' body until it's protruding against the ropes of the far side of this ring; again.

I have to tilt my head, practically crawling over Kaylees lap in order to get a good look at what Grayson's delivering. A series of blows before he ends the round with a strong jab straight in the direction of Miles' ribs. Right at the side where I've heard it hurts the most, but the ribs are the best target so they'll hurt from any side, at least that's what Graysons says anyway.

He's still on the floor -Miles- and I have to keep telling myself not to become complacent with the score. Anything can change in a round, especially from a boy with a now dented ego. Grayson floats over to Lucas for some water whilst Miles' coach comes rushing over, Gatorade in hand as they help him to a sitting position, firing a million questions I expect.

"Deserved that, he did." Kingsley smiles, taking another gulp of the beer that's still left in that plastic red cup. I look up at him, and for the first time in the two months I've gotten to know him it feels like I actually see him and who he is.