We never thought it will get this far.
The first time was a one time thing that we both regretted but we kept coming back for more and now we can't stop.
I don't think neither of us wants to.
Our desire for each other has grown more than anything...
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Seeing Christian fight always made me feel queasy. I don't like seeing him get beaten that way.
I once tried to talk him out of fight before he said that this is his passion. He lives and breathes fighting.
But that was when we were kids. Maybe things has changed since then.
Soon as I came home I immediately took a shower and went to sleep. It wasn't until 3 in the morning that banging on my front door woke me up.
I hurriedly out the bed and rushed to grab my baseball bat. I open the door ready to start swinging but I stop mid air.
"CHRISTIAN!" I yelled out lowering my bat.
"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU BANGING ON MY DOOR?!" I yelled again but he didn't respond.
I put the bat down. "What's wrong?" I asked in a softer manner.
"Can I come in?" He said. His voice sounded raspy and rough. Like his been screaming for hours.
I stepped aside to let him in further but as soon as the light fully showed his face, I gasp.
"What the fuck Christian! Why didn't you go to the doctor?" I shouted.
His face was horrible.
His left eye was partially shut. Purple bruises was forming on his jaw. His nose was broken.
"I'm fine," he says walking in further into my apartment.
"Your face doesn't that!"
"Look... can we not fight tonight?" He said.
"Okay then you can leave and go to a fucking hospital!"
"Why go to a hospital when i have a perfect go nurse right in front of me," he says.
I rolled my eyes and turned to head to my bathroom.
Back in high school when Christian and my brother would seek off to fight. They would come back with the most fucked up injuries and because my mother was a nurse she taught me a few things, I had to stitch up their wounds.
