"I'll break down your walls one by one and sneak into the gates of your icy heart before crushing it into tiny pieces." He murmurs mercilessly as his lips lightly brush my ear, the contact eliciting an indescribable sensation through every inch of m...
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"Yo Vic, punch that bag any harder and you might decimate the damn thing."
His words fail to get through my skull.
With a purpose, I keep throwing fast combos towards the punching bag while keeping my footwork active.
Ignoring the extreme pain from my arm muscles, I release all the built-up frustrations with each throw executed per second.
I constantly oscillate from one position to another at a fast pace, never taking my eyes off the target.
Although the boxing gloves are enough to protect my knuckles, I can't feel my hands any longer but I simply don't care.
I've been at it for the past two hours.
Stalon who ended his training session a few minutes earlier assesses me in alert with pure concern but I refuse to stop.
Not until I permanently erase that scene from my damn mind.
"That's enough."
Despite my unwillingness to comply, he does the unthinkable and seizes the punching bag away from me in one go.
My level of focus shifts.
Hoping for the thoughts to disappear, lividness arises as I realize the training accomplished nothing.
Fuckin' hell.
It's not until Stalon hands me my water bottle, that I notice my entire body completely covered in sweat.
He throws a mini towel towards my direction which I catch instantly before I discard my boxing gloves.
"What did that beauty ever do to you?" Stalon begins mischievously as he wipes his damp hair with a towel, "I think that punching bag holds the ranking as your biggest enemy."
In any other circumstances, I would've laughed but not today.
Right now all I want to do is punch something again, anything to forget about that night.
Once we approach a gym mat, I'm the first to sit before he does the same.
As I chug the bottle of water in carelessness, Stalon nods in understanding with a knowing look on his face without saying a word.
Even if the guy always has a funny comment to share, he knows when to back off at times when I'm on edge. Hence, why we're best friends.
Out of all the 'so-called friends' I had in college, he's the only person I still contact today which speaks volumes.
From drinking buddies to partners in crime, he's always been someone I could count on.
Why be in the company of fakes when one loyal friend is all you need?
The sudden vibrating sound of my phone is enough to capture my attention.
Shifting my vehement glare to the screen, my frown deepens upon reading the latest message sent.
