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A SMALL GRUNT OF IRRITATION FALLS FROM ASTRID'S LIPS. Her green eyes narrow on the smirking Sith, leaning back on her arms that pressed against the padded matt. Her body glowed under the fluorescent lights as they hit her sweating body. Chest rising and falling, Astrid was angry, frustrated, and irrevocably fed up with Vader.
"That was a cheap shot, you used the Force," the girl scoffs, refusing to get up. Her body hurt from the training Vader had demanded she got, and her emotions went haywire whenever she was around him. Sometimes, she wanted to do nothing more than to have him on his knees blissed out, the other times, like right now, she wanted to slap that stupidly attractive smirk off of his stupidly beautiful face.
"There's no such thing as a cheap shot when fighting an Inquisitor," Vader rolls his eyes, holding his hand out for her to take. As he expected, she refused and stayed in her spot on the ground, glaring up at him. She had grown more herself the last few weeks with him, the feistiness he so desperately missed, the actions she did out of pure spite, the heated glare she'd bore into him.
