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ROCINHA APARTMENT
GAVIN
Up. Try again. There's no room for failure.
GAVIN TOOK SHARP INTAKES OF BREATH, CONTROLLING HIS HEAVY BREATHING AS HE ROLLS HIS SHOULDERS BACK. Karma laid on the apartment's terrace floor, panting heavily as beads of sweat trail down her forehead to her neck, the sunrays of pure hotness pierced their skin.
Both teenagers were drenched with sweat, but Gavin remained focused and unbothered. He double-tapped the side of her leg with the staff made of bamboo, emerald eyes darken with sheer memory as he was reminded of himself when he used to be weak.
Despite the years, Gavin Herrera could never stop himself from training, he would wake up at the crack of dawn and climb the stairs of the apartment building that led to the terrace. Each time he trained he heard the voice of his instructor, his harsh voice gave him a skin of steel, it turned him into the sharpest and deadliest assassin.
"Up." Gavin encouraged her. "Try again."
There's no room for failure.
The girl managed to get up despite her aching muscles, she sways a little on her feet before shifting into a fighting stance. Her forearms were bruised from using them to block the strikes, Gavin knew he was going hard on her and he wouldn't be surprised she ended up calling quits. But the world is filled with dangerous people, whether you're a good kid or not, the evilness always sweeps through the tiniest and slimmest of cracks and into your life. Taking you off guard and then forcing you to get rid of every resemblance of who you used to be, before teaching you how to lose yourself in the madness that slowly creeps over your brain like a shadow during the night. You never see it coming. Never.
