He was going soft on her.
She couldn’t recall the last time he’d honestly landed a hit. In fact, just hours before he’d apologised four times for bumping into her. That’s why she’d invited him here today, to spar. But he wasn’t giving her his all. He’d gone soft. Biting her lip, Luna knocked her knuckles together, the white mitts wrapped around her fingers creaking. Storm shed his hoodie and tossed it on the pile where she’d left her coat and bag before flexing his fingers and adopting a defensive stance. Luna watched as his right leg slid back behind him, his left knee bent in front.
If only he’d follow through with his preparations.
She lunged forward when he gave the signal, her right foot swinging up for the side of his neck. He blocked, of course he did, but then he simply brushed her aside. She stepped back and raised her fists to guard — but nothing came her way. His eyes fixed on hers.
“What the heck are you doing?” she admonished. “We’re supposed to be fighting. How can I practice if you’re just going to keep brushing me off? You promised you’d help me!”
His cheeks flushed. “I wasn’t! I’m just letting you go first.”
“There is no turn taking! You just have to go.”
She threw her fist out and he grabbed it, twisting her arm until she dropped to her knee. With the ball of his foot he then knocked her onto her side. She glared up at him.
"You’re not trying either,” Storm observed. “You’d never make a mistake like that.”
“No,” Luna huffed as she climbed to her feet, “I wouldn’t. But you’re making it too easy.”
He rolled his eyes. “Just hit me again. You’ll see.”
She swung her right leg out and flicked the top of her foot against his side. The motion was hard enough to knock him back a step, but not fast enough that he couldn’t block it. He really wasn’t trying. Without another word she leapt forward and with the weight of her whole body sent him crashing into the ground. From there she straddled him and brought her fist back before releasing the tension in her muscles to drive her knuckles into the side of his face. He grunted from the impact.
“Fight me!” she yelled. “What’s wrong with you?! When did you stop taking me seriously?! It’s embarrassing! Do you really think that little of me?! You’re the only person I can—”
She caught herself before she could finish. Caught the feelings bursting to the surface and stuffed them right back where they belonged. His eyes widened when she brought her fist down again — only this time he was ready. He caught her fist within both of his hands and launched her off him. The moment she hit the mats he was on top of her, pinning her arms above her head. She exhaled a deep breath that knocked his hair back from his face. He then leaned close enough that their noses touched. Luna writhed about in his hold, eyes squeezed closed as she tried to shift her legs. He didn’t move.
"Of course I take you seriously, idiot! We’re partners! That’s why I don’t want to fight you.”
“What are you talking about?! We train together because we’re partners! That’s the whole point of—”
She flinched when his lips touched hers, the gesture making her whole body tremble in surprise. Why did he have to taste so sweet? So addictive? She reprimanded herself for enjoying it. He gave her fingers a squeeze and withdrew his hands to sit upright, his weight barely affecting her as he raised himself on his knees. She brought herself upright with the palms of her hands and quickly drove a fist against his chest while he sat there, still as stone on her legs. He let out a laugh, his fingers curling around her wrist.
“Do you get it now, Luna?”
Tears welled in the corners of her eyes. This was so frustrating — so humiliating. She pounded her fists against his chest until he pushed her back onto the mat so that he could stand. She gazed up at the ceiling, her entire body shaking with the lingering taste of his kiss.
“How annoying,” she muttered, wiping the back of her hand over her lips. “You’re so annoying.”
He laughed. “So are we gonna fight or are we gonna talk?”
She heaved a sigh. “Loser buys the other dinner.”
He extended a hand to help her to her feet, a hand she took with reluctance — but also with a smile.
“Deal." He’d regret saying that.
After all, Luna has the appetite of her father.
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