A lick of attraction

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Leocadia's Point of View


I panted, my body stumbling from exertion. I felt a bead of sweat roll down my back and pool in the dimple of my spine.

 My brother had challenged me to a fight the morning after I arrived, just like the old days. I refused on the account of potentially hurting him, however I offered to fight him with swords. Me, with Durendal (My sword) and my brother with his rapier.

That brings us back to now, both of us sweating profusely as we clashed swords over and over. My brother was impressed at my ability to stand on equal ground with him with swords. Since Fuegoleon is the heir to our house, he has been taught swordplay since he was ten.

He lunged at me with his rapier fast as lightning, aiming for my shoulder. I brought up my long-sword to block it, pushing back with almost equal force as his blade screeched as it slid down my sword.

He countered by swinging his knee into my unprotected stomach, causing me bow slightly forward with a grunt. I used my free hand to clip him in the chin, hearing his jaw clack shut with the force of the blow as his head whipped backwards.

At this point, we were sparring for about an hour and a half, both of us nearing our limits, covered in bruises and cuts. I was now sporting a purpling bruise on my cheek and a shallow cut on my left bicep, along with several smaller scrapes, cuts, and bruises.

We had stripped also ourselves until we were wearing only the barest necessities. I now only wore loose black pants more suitable for hot weather, my boots, and the bandages binding my chest. The scars I had were on full display, but I reveled in it. They represented my struggles and successes, and I was damn proud of them. So I wore my imperfections like jewelry, baring them for the world without concern or insecurity.

My brother was about to retaliate until he looked behind me and froze. I paused, before surmising it was a ploy to distract me. I charged, using his distraction to my advantage to sweep his feet out from under him, pinning him in place with my sword poised at his throat, indicating my victory.

I heard an awkward cough behind me and it quickly dawned on me that my brother's distraction had been genuine. I whipped my head to the person interrupting us to realize it was Nozel Silva.

He stood sort of awkwardly, a barely noticeable blush painting his stoic face as he looked off to the side, respectful to my relative nakedness. I sighed, turning to my brother prone beneath my sword. I shot a smug grin at him, watching with suppressed glee as he pouted sulkily. I clambered off of him, offering a hand, bracing my muscles as he latched on and I helped drag him up.

"Look's like I won little brother." I said to him jovially, an undertone of self-satisfaction in my voice.

"Hmm, it seems you have. I wasn't expecting such a dirty move, but I suppose that is my fault for expecting anything less from you." Fuegoleon said. I could already tell he was pouting, and I patted him on the back in mocking affection.

"You'll beat me next time, right Leon?" I patronized him playfully. His face completely deadpanned, but he said nothing, choosing to stew in annoyance at my teasing.

I lazily strolled to the stone bench in the garden, sheathing my sword into it's ornate sheath on the way over. I snatched up my shirt and my brother's, tossing his to him before pulling on my own loose linen shirt. It took me a second to finally remember that we had been ignoring Nozel since he got here. I finally turned to Nozel, taking him in for the first time in two years.

He had become handsome, though still possessed the boyish face of youth. He had grown to be three inches taller than me, lanky and a little awkward as of now. Still had the dorky hair style, though he had grown into it more.

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