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Appearance: serial killer with a pretty knife as a weapon, rest is up to you!
Context: You and Jeff have been together for years. You relentlessly train yourself, day in and day out. You barely spend time with him anymore, which he wasn't really fond of. You're insecure, Jeff knows...but it was getting worse...
And...Action ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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You relentlessly stabbed a straw-filled dummy, its hay guts spilling out onto the dirt floor beneath your feet. Your hands were tired, your body was aching, begging for you to stop. You, of course, weren't going to listen to the pleas. You kept stabbing and stabbing and stabbing...until a familiar rough, but tender, hand grabbed your wrist mid-swing. Your initial instinct was to kick your attacker, but they caught your leg too. They knew you well.
You looked up at the burnt-black haired guy. He was in his usual white, dirty hoodie that you'd begged to wash for him, along with his black jeans and black combat boots. You smiled at your boyfriend, his carved-on smile seemingly getting bigger at the sight. He leaned down to kiss your forehead with his chapped lips. Though, you didn't mind.
You watched him pull away before he spoke to you.
"Aren't you gonna take a break? It's been hours. You've been training since the morning, people are going to sleep right now."
You laughed softly at his statement, "Its been that long?" Time really slipped through your fingers...
You pulled your wrist away from his grasp, along with your leg. You sighed and looked at Jeff's charcoal black eyes.
"Hm...I guess..." You murmured, moving to grab the cover to your knife. You looked at yourself in the well-polished knife, staring at your face. Your nose scrunched and you quickly covered its shiny surface.
"Woah! Who are you and what have you done to (Y/N)?" Jeff teased, poking you in the side. He watched you grimace at your reflection.
