𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺.
The woman of impeccable beauty was the infinite definition of her name. Calm and poise.
Born into a violent life of guns and knives, you would assume a Mafia Princess like her would be training and preparing to be the next heir...
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My body was aching from the strong force of my hips thrusting upwards.
I continue on, the weight above me light in my hands but starting to grow heavier with each thrust. After two more gains, I lower the weights back onto the bar and stand up, a layer of sweat trickling down my neck.
The boxing section across from me captures all of my attention, forcing me to find my way to the boxing bags.
Standing to the side, I begin to remove each of my rings and place them on a side table. They are replaced by red boxing gloves, that glide onto my hands as I prepare to take my position.
The strong force of my fist hitting the bag had it flying right off the stand. I grumbled under my breath, moving over to another bag and kicking it forcefully with my foot making sure it was stable enough.
Beginning to puncture my arms into the bag furthermore, my mind begins to race again.
Serenity's name flutters through my mind. Frustratingly feeling her soft hands on my skin, her smile that can light up my current beating heart—all of her angelic features were enough for my lungs to run out of oxygen, even if I was breathing perfectly.
Unknowingly, she was becoming my secret obsession. I thought about her constantly. Almost every hour would have a flicker of her dark hair drifting in and out of my mind or those grey eyes. Fuck, those eyes.
She was doe-eyed, always peering at me with this innocence that made me want to tame her. But she also had this fire in her, this demanding fire that would come out every so often, only if you got close enough you'd be blessed to capture it.
Whereas her appearance was only an asset to her precious giggles and soft voice of hums. Her aspirations were something I wanted to make come true for her. Every wish I wanted to grant.
I was whipped and I was only realising it now.
Sweat trickled down from the ends of my hair, falling onto my face—only to remind of the desperate trim I needed.
Jolting me from my thoughts, my gaze burns through the black boxing bag and with every fist pummelling to it awakened fire into my bones, awakening my anger, my pleads, every dishonest truth that would burn her heart.
The frustration from before comes humming through the traces of my expression, actioning into my fists. I knew well that she felt exactly like I did, our chemistry was undeniable, ever since the day we first met. I know that she had been hurt in the past, it was clear on her face every time we were together—she had a hard time trusting.
Yet, she trusts me. Something I've gained. Earned.
What a fucking mistake that was.
My jaw sets with a click. I pull my fists away from the bag, feeling the muscle in my calves strain. The force from what my arms were giving out had travelled down my body, creating aches everywhere.
