Luke never let you come to his matches. "I just want you to be safe babydoll" was his line everytime you asked. Boxing didn't bother you, actually it was interesting to you. How two people who've never even spoken before could annihilate each other within five minutes of standing in a ring together. Tonight was going to be different. You had finally decided that you would just sneak into one. It wasn't going to be some big show, but you were going to get to be there. Luke wasn't just a boxer to see. He was the boxer to see. Every opponent he went against was on the floor in a minute, face down and not getting up any time soon. He was small, but not at a disadvantage. Luke managed to find weak points quickly, analyzing movements and habits in seconds and acting on them instantaneously. "Y/N babe, I'm leaving." You were called out of your little daydream and you looked towards the door, Luke standing in black shorts and a tshirt, shifting his duffel bag to behind him.
"Can I-" Luke stopped you with a smile.
"No can do babe, you know the rules." You pouted, hoping to make it believable.
"They aren't the rules. Just your rules." You crossed your arms and he walked over to you, bending down and kissing your forehead.
"I want you safe babydoll." And there it was. The line of the century.
"I can just stay towards the back and-" He shook his head.
"Too close to the door. That's how you get kidnapped." You tried again.
"Well then the front can-" He shook his head again.
"Do you really want beer spilt on you and being pushed everywhere?" You pouted and he smiled.
"I'll be back sweetheart, don't go anywhere." He kissed you again and walked out, slamming the door.
You grabbed your purse and threw on some leggings and a jacket over your tshirt, checking your phone battery before you left. You wandered down the streets, clutching your purse to your side and keeping your grip on your phone tight. You two were tight with money so your apartment building was on the lesser side of town. Luke did everything he could to keep a roof over your head and food on the table. You of course didn't just stand by and take his money, offering your services as a cafe waitress in the nearby city. You knew the path to the ring well, having passed it on the way to work every day. You heard loud screaming and rough voices as you walked, keeping your pace quick in order to make it safely to the arena. You finally made it to the door, uncovering your tshirt slightly for safety. Everyone knew Luke as Hemmings and as a precaution, you wore the shirt he had made for you for your birthday a few years ago. A plain white baseball tee with black sleeves and Hemmings written across the top in black lettering on the back. You snuck across the doorway, squeezing past loud men screaming obscenities towards the ring, careful not to jostle around too much. You made it to an emptier side of the ring near some other women who looked about your age, other fighters' girlfriends, you assumed. As you stood watching fight after fight go by, you started to wonder if you had missed Luke. That meant he would already be on his way home if not home already and there was no way you could explain your late night outing to him without lying. Finally right before moving away from the rest of the girls, you noticed a blonde move into the ring, the lights above the arena lighting up for the next fight. Luke stood in the corner facing you, shaking his head and bouncing on his toes to get ready. You stayed back farther to make sure he wasn't able to see you. He would be furious, no, outright livid if he found you there, even as safe as you were. The man in the corner in front of you stayed still, shaking out his wrists and cracking his neck with swift tilts. You stifled a laugh at the cartoonish movements of the man, sobering up as the bell rang. You watched as a girl beside you grabbed a sign and made her way to the ring, dropping the jacket she had on to reveal a small bikini. She was a ring girl. You looked on to see her climb the platform and wave around the sign signaling round one. The man winked and Luke simply nodded as the girl made her way by, smiling as she passed him. Ha, he didn't even acknowledge you. You thought as she made her way back down. The bell rang again and the two men started circling, Luke eyeing him, eyes darting around his body for a hint at his weak spot. The other man swiped up at Luke's stomach and he leaned back, immediately punching the man's right rib as he came forward again. The guy winced slightly and the corner of Luke's mouth turned up. He allowed the man a quick jab to the side and instantly came back with a hard kick to his rib again, heel first. The man groaned and stumbled allowing Luke to throw a punch to his face, one after the other until the bell rang. The man got up and the referee motioned to the group of girls for another round. You felt a push on your back, the girls moving you towards the ring. The referee sighed in annoyance at the delay and a sign was shoved in your hands and your jacket torn off. You were pushed onto the stairs and there was no way out now. You carefully stepped up, keeping your eyes low to the floor, walking quicly around the ring. You heard whistles and shouts aimed at you and you quickened your pace, feeling an arm wrap around you and you were pulled flush against someone's chest. He twirled you around and stared down at you, eyes fiery with anger.
"What do you think you're doing?" He snapped. You looked down and mumbled an answer. "What?" He snapped again.
"I wanted to watch you and you never let me come. I didn't mean for this, I was just going to stay back and watch then run home right after." You tried to explain.
"Oi, Hemmings. Let the poor slut go and fight me. You can fuck her later." You heard a rough voice from behind you and Luke glared at you once more before lifting the cord from the ring and guiding you under to his manager. He turned back towards the man and waited for the bell to ring. The man jabbed at Luke's chin and Luke let loose, punching across the man's jaw over and over, keeping his grip tight against the man's throat, pinned to the ground and not letting go. Blood was pouring out of the man's nose and mouth, his body limp against the dirty floor. The referee pulled Luke off, shoving him across the ring and pulling the cord up for the doctor to check on the man. The bell rang and the referee started to talk. A simple "Hemmings" was muttered into the microphone and his wrist was held up for a few seconds, letting the crowd cheer him on. Luke dragged himself away from the man bleeding on the floor and hopped off the platform, grabbing you by the arm and slipping you into the dressing room with him. He grabbed his bag, yanking a jacket out of it and pulling it over your head haphazardly and slinging the bag over his shoulder. He grabbed your hand silently and dragged you out, wrapping an arm around your waist and leading you out of the arena, his body blocking you from all the hollering and slaps on the back from drunk onlookers. He led you to the old beat up car you two shared and yanked open the door, letting you sit down and pull the seatbelt over yourself before he shut it loudly and got into the drivers seat, starting the ar without a word. The quick and silent trip to the apartment was a rough one, feeling foolish and childlike as Luke pulled into the parking lot. You stepped out of the car when it shut off, complying to luke's gruff "Gimme your hand" and following him up to the apartment. He dug his keys out of his bag and shoved the door open, pulling you inside and slamming it shut.
"Luke I'm-" You started but he cut you off with a sharp turn from his path to the bedroom.
"Are you seriously apologizing for that right now? I speifically told you not to come for your own safety and you didn't even care enough to listen? I don't do this for my pleasure Y/N, I do it to keep what happened tonight from ever happening. Do you know how shitty I would feel if you had to walk around that ring every time I fought, dressed up like a prostitute to keep a roof over your head?" You stayed silent but kept a confused look on your face. "I don't keep you from watching me fight because I don't think you can handle it. I keep you from it because those people in there, yeah they can't handle you. You know what you're worth Y/N. And that's a hell of a lot more than those girls in there can say. I want you safe and I want you clean and I want you mine. Those guys could rip you apart and if I didn't know you were there, I wouldn't have been able to stop them." You looked at the ground silently.
"I wanted to show you that I care. That I appreciate what you do for me. You come to the cafe all the time and help lead people in. I wanted to do the same for you." You sat on the couch and wiped your eyes of the tears building up.
"Y/N baby," His voice was soft. "I know you care. Every time I come home with a cut or a bruise, you're there ready for me with ice and cotton pads and kisses when I pout like a child." You laughed a little. "There's my pretty girl." He wiped the tear that had escaped onto your cheek with his thumb. "I don't want you there because you mean too much to me." He kissed your nose and you laughed.
"How about as my apology to you, I cook your favorite?" You smiled. His eyes lit up.
"Grilled cheese and tomato?" He guessed. You nodded. "Will you put bacon on it?" He asked hopefully.
"Is there really any other way?"
