Bruised

Epilogue

Natalie sat on the floor of the boxing ring, kneeling between Leon's outstretched legs. His skin still glistened from his boxing match, his shirt still stuffed in a duffel bag somewhere.

Her fingers fluttered carefully over his skin, hovering over fresh bruises, a bloody lip, a scraped cheek.

"Why didn't you wear your headguard?" Natalie tutted as she smoothed disinfectant over his bleeding cheekbone. Leon winced, just barely, and she pressed the disinfectant down harder. A punishment for worrying her. "At least your mouthguard."

"It was supposed to be just a practice match," Leon said. "I wasn't planning on getting hit."

Now that high school was a distant memory, already fading just a year out from graduation, Leon tended to get into scrapes less often. But every now and then, Natalie found herself here, barking at him to hold an ice pack to some body part while she swallowed her nausea and taped up his face.

Leon was perfectly capable of doing it himself, but he preferred Natalie's gentle touch. Her healing hands.

"You shouldn't have got hit then," Natalie said.

She flattened a band-aid against his cheek. In her deep concentration, she didn't notice Leon leaning closer until he'd already pressed a kiss against her lips.

"Leon!" she scolded through a burst of laughter. "Stop! I'm trying to fix things here."

"And I'm supposed to just resist all this seduction laid out in front of me?" He pressed another quick peck to her mouth and this time Natalie didn't fight the smile it brought.

"Look," she said. "Now you've reopened the cut on your lip."

"It was worth it," he said. "Besides, you find it hot."

"I do not."

He kissed her again, this time lingering so that she tasted the metallic tang of his blood on her tongue. When he parted, she leaned closer, her lips searching for the warmth of his breath.

"You totally do," Leon said, lifting a brow at her automatic response.

"Oh, whatever."

She rolled her eyes, and kissed him.

Leon laughed into the kiss, reacting to it the way he always did—like she was his air. His main source of oxygen. His arms wrapped around her waist, and he leaned back, pulling her closer until she was practically lying on top of him in the middle of the boxing ring.

"I'm going to be late," Natalie murmured between kisses. Her hand rested against his bruised jaw, still cold from the long-forgotten icepack. Leon's grip around her waist only tightened.

"So be late."

This was what their life had become. Morning practice in the Golden Ring and then a quick make out sesh before running to class. Sometimes they'd have lunch together. Sometimes Leon would have a match in the evening. Sometimes he crawled through her window and just lied beside her in her bed, feeling her breathe beside him.

Natalie loved to watch him fight. Mostly because of the way his muscles bulged, and his abs shone when he fought. She wasn't even ashamed to admit it. If anything, she wanted to show it off—this was her boyfriend. When his matches were over, she was the one who got to enjoy it all.

Not to mention that she was legally allowed in the bar now. Natalie wasn't much for drinking, but a cocktail paired well with her sweaty boyfriend in a boxing ring. Especially on nights where they'd celebrate. She'd shared more drunken kisses with him in this ring than sober ones by now.