WHEN: august 11th, 1989 WHERE: nolan naomi’s gym WHO: closed to @firsthandfirecracker
Jill hadn’t noticed the bruising around her knuckles and arm until it’d been pointed out.
‘ nasty fall ? ’ it was mr. tucker, who lived close by, who had asked. jill had frowned at him, unsure as to what’d made him think that.
‘ yes. just clumsiness, ’ she’d replied innocently.
but that hadn’t been the case. the marks had been gifts from naomi, reminders of their last training session. they continued to ache and itch, as if there were small fires burning under the layers of flesh. the blotches stood out like traces of lavender and cardinal paint. but she didn’t mind -- she’d never do.
after all, the ring was the only place where she felt at ease. there was too much despair everywhere -- everywhere but there. at first, every inch of her refused to go in, the memory of having dropped larissa off right at the gym’s doors too engraved in her mind. it throbbed with guilt and confusion, so much so that jill couldn’t bear to drive past the establishment. but now, much to her dismay, the ring was among the few spots in town where she felt safe.
there, where the air reeked of sweat and copper, her limbs seemed to loosen their tight grip, the tension then poured onto every punch and dodge. there, she’d find comfort knowing she’d be grazed by nothing but naomi’s fists.
a sense of comfort and familiarity flooded her as she walked in through the doors, her eyes scanning for its owner.
“ naomi? ” she asked, following the sounds of leather against leather, solid against solid.
“ crap, sorry. i thought i’d forgotten something from the last time i was here. ” jill blushed, forgetting what she’d been looking for in the first place. “ i thought you would be home by now... i didn’t mean to interrupt. ”