Shades

they

Kate drove Noelle's car to the gym. It was weird that she was coming to see this guy—just because she heard how bad his game had been. She didn't even know him, they were only familiar on a first-name basis after all. He probably didn't even know what her last name was. Okay, scratch that, he definitely didn't know what it was.

The gym was open but inside was dark. Only the moon gave a little light through the windows. Kate looked around. Was Dylan sure that he was here? Well, Dylan doesn't lie, right?

She walked to the other side of the gym. A door was open and a dim light was shining from inside. If there was one person she knew who liked dimly lit places, it was Damien.

She heard small grunts as she got closer to the door, along with the sound of something being punched continuously. Damien was here.

The room was filled with boxing equipment, weight lifts, and the sort. There was even a small boxing ring in the middle of the room. The grunting and hitting were coming from the far end of the room. Kate followed the sound and stopped when she saw Damien.

He was shirtless and damn, did it look good. She had always averted her eyes whenever he removed his shirt so this was a shock to her.

The tattoos. 

Yes, he had freaking tattoos. From his lower back, going up and crossing over to his chest, they looked like wings. She wondered what was in front because his back was turned to her.

She took slow steps toward him, still mesmerized by how the lights shone on his smooth tanned, and inked skin.

Then, she stopped.

Not because he was too good-looking to behold or how his muscles bulged as he moved. It was because of what he was doing.

There was a punching bag next to him but he was hitting the wall instead. He had those white wraps around his fists but they had torn and his hands were now bleeding. Still, he continued hitting the wall vigorously.

His muscles moved with every move he made, a good hit and a lasting pain, but he didn't stop.

"Damien!"

He paused for only a second but then continued with the wall again. This guy was either crazy or insane. There was a freaking bag he could hit right next to him.

She walked to him but stood fixed at a spot as she looked at the wall. The white color of the wall was already stained with his blood. How long had he been doing this? And God, she hated the sight of blood.

"Stop!" She seethed.

He continued.

"Damien!"

He didn't stop.

"Please, stop"

She was begging. Begging because this blood could make her faint. Because for some reason, she didn't like him doing this.

"Damien!" She shouted again.

And again, he ignored her.

She could only look at him. His muscles flexed with each punch he made. His tattoos followed in the movement and she could finally see what was in front.  It was indeed wings growing from the back. In between the feathers was a black rose. A dying rose.

She looked up at his face, his shades were gone and his blue eyes looked darker than normal, his lips in a thin line. Well, Dylan did say that he was upset. But now he looked like he was in pain. His hits were slow. Of course, he was in pain.

Without thinking, she stepped in front of him, resting her back on the wall he had been abusing. She closed her eyes as he swung his fist but he paused on seeing her.