Loving Lars

15. Loving The Gym

*just to clarify i know nothing about fighting so i'm just making it up. please don't forget to vote and to comment, i wanna know who's reading this story lol. if u have any suggestions for what u want to see please lmk as well*

"No I'm not training you." Lars grumbled.

"Oh come on! It's the only way I'll forgive you." I batted my eyelashes.

He stared at me for a few minutes and sighed "You can't work out in a hoodie."

I squealed. I almost went to hug him, but then I remembered I'm still very angry with him.

However, to get him back for his earlier stunt, I ripped my hoodie off right there in front of him. All I had on underneath was a sports bra.

He stilled, unsure what to do with himself. To be fair he has never seen me without a shirt on, whereas he's always shirtless, but that doesn't mean his abs effect me any less and I will give it to myself, my boobs do look amazing in this bra.

"What?" I said to him cheekily.

He broke out of his trance, grabbed his shirt and pulled it over me.

"Much better." He grumbled.

"You're no fun" I pouted.

He ignored me and went to set a few things up and when he made his way back over to me he had a mischievous glint in his eyes, like he'd just come up with the best idea.

"We're going to start off by running laps."

"Are you joking? What have I ever done to you!" I complained.

"If you wanna be a good fighter, you need to have good stamina." Lars explained.

"I never said I wanted to be a good fighter." I grumbled.

He doesn't reply nor does he wait for me to prepare myself before he's off running. I trail behind him and by the third lap, I'm already huffing and puffing whereas he's hardly broken a sweat.

"Don't you think that's enough laps?" I panted.

"Not really, but I'll go easy on you."

I sent him a sarcastic smile in response.

"Next will be push ups and crunches." He directed, already starting on his push ups.

"Look all I want is to learn how to fight." I argued.

He stopped and stared at me for a moment, I sent him a pleading look. He got up and took me over to the punching bags.

"Okay, make a fist in your dominant hand." He asked.

I made a fist with my left hand.

"First, never have your thumb tucked in and second, you're left handed, which might be a bit difficult." He took my thumb out of my fist and positioned it correctly.

"Why will that be difficult?" I peered up at him.

"Because I'm right handed, so it'll be slightly awkward. But it's fine."

I nodded.

He came and stood behind me, grabbing my waist and lining me up so I'm square with the punching bag. He put his leg in between mine, to seperate them and he keeps his there. He took my left hand with his and bought it up to my face.

"You want to take your fist and punch out to the right, not straight on." He explained.

It was difficult to concentrate with him being pressed up against me. Especially with his hot breath fanning my neck.