𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗘 𝗠𝗘? | vi x fem oc

V. fight the machine

(Please comment and vote xx) i also want to thank everyone that is reading this book, it means a lot and i hope this chapter isn't too short for anyone? i apologise if it is x

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Punch after punch was thrown with more verociousness than the last. Sweat was upon her brow as her gloved hands punched the machine over and over, her reflexes working to miss the machine's retaliating blows. She was puffing out air, her silver hair moving as much as she did in its ponytail. 

THWACK. SMACK. THUMP. 

Her fists worked tirelessly and quickly. It had been two weeks since Maeve had saved Ekko in the alley, her bruises almost completely gone and the only indication it was there was the faintest colour of yellow, the last stage before the evidence was gone completely. It didn't hurt anymore, and so she growled to herself with each punch being more forceful.

She thought to Vi, of whom had gone into the arcade with her, and how Maeve was absolutely terrified of being viewed as weak. How terrifying it was, indeed, to feel hopeless and weak.

I'm not weak.

Maeve punched the machine again, her expression filled with anger. Her thoughts were swirling around her now, enveloping and suffocating her. It enraged the young girl, and so her attacks were precise and worrying.

"Evie-" Vi took a step forwards, her own brows furrowed with concern as she saw the desperation in Maeve's movements. It was clear that the silver haired girl was a force to be reckoned with in a fight, having pure grit and determination to win the battle no matter how, but something didn't seem right. There was something plagueing the girl's mind, and Vi wanted to know what.

Just as the pink haired girl took another step, the machine stopped and the total score was added up. Maeve was one point below Vi, and this infuriated the teenager. She scowled and hastily took off the boxing gloves, threw them to the floor and pushed passed Vi, heading for the counter by the moving targets to practice your aim.

"Evie-" Vi tried again but Maeve spun and glared, her breathing heavy.

"What, Violet?!" She was stunned by the outburst, gulping and frowning. Her mouth was agape, looking like a shocked fish before she snapped it shut and sighing. This is what gave it away that Maeve was struggling with something.

"Come here." She said softly, her hand outstretched for the girl but Maeve simply shook her head. How could she possibly take Vi's hand when she didn't feel worthy to? Vi was placed atop a pedestal, seen as brilliant and strong. The responsible one. And what was Maeve? Vander lectures her, tells her off for standing up for what she deems is right and, no matter how many times he tells her he's proud, she never feels like enough.

So she comes here, pushing herself more and more, practicing week after week until her knuckles sometimes bleed or she nearly collapses from exhausted. She wanted to be like Vi. She wanted to be praised and not lectured.

"Maeve..." Vi trailed off, slowly approaching the girl again as she still stood by the counter with her fists clenched. "Talk to me-"

"How?" Maeve begged, her voice cracking with raw emotions. She didn't know how to talk to Vi, she didn't know how to explain herself. But Vi's hand brushed against her cheek and a tear unknowingly fell. The comfort was exceptional to Maeve, but the twist and swirl of her stomach felt strange. She looked at the older girl, her eyes pleading yet her cheeks dusting pink.

Vi stood there with her hand against her cheek, her thumb rubbing soothingly to ease the girl and provide comfort. Her blue eyes were soft as they stared into Maeve's, and for a split second, they looked elsewhere.