arms hang over the crimson ropes that are stretched from the four sides of the wrestling ring. hands dangling while his fingers wiggle, gaining movement, making sure they’re still present and attached. azin doesn’t skimp when it comes to training. she never has. and today, even ten years later, it’s no different. she puts in work and hustle in all facets of athletic activity and her profession. ALWAYS. ‘ yea, i mean it’ll be like a reward. for kicking my ass. ’ retorting, he eyes her over his broad shoulder. a creeping smirk living in the space of the corner of his mouth. moving from his hunched position from the ropes, he’s closing in on where she stands. sweat dripping down her face and his alike, he’s sure of. ‘ it’s a game that i don’t think you can actually win. so, yea, let’s play, az. ’ strong in his words and the way his body stands tall but he’s merely pushing along with the attitude they consistently share. they’re playful, they banter. it’s like a decade-long marriage without all the baggage.
‘ now that you mention it, i might have you beat me purposely. i wouldn’t mind being a loser then. ’ light colored hue winks at her as his throat releases a bellowing chuckle, he’s quick with his hands. locking them behind the back of her neck, he pushes his front foot forward for balance, grappling her as if in the ring for real.