Equilibrium - #ProjectWomanUp

Ten

"Easy there" Kane says, as he walks into the training room. It is dark outside, and neither of us should be in here. But neither of us care. I am taking my anger out on the punching bag in the corner of the room – pushing my emotions into my clenched fists.

The sound of the heavy thudding, of my fists against the surprisingly hard foam, echoes through the dark room. The echo louder from the emptiness. It is a peaceful sound, but today it brings me no peace.

"You'll do yourself an injury if you're not careful" Kane adds. He is standing in the doorway, a few meters away. His large arms are crossed over his chest, and he leans casually against the doorframe. Once more, I don't reply, but rather step back and take a kick at the bag.

However, Kane has never taught me kicking. So I obviously do it wrong; as pain explodes in my foot before shooting up my leg. I scream, before collapsing onto the crash mat. Kane cusses and rushes to my side.

"Told you" he muttered under his breath, as I grip my throbbing foot. I glare at Kane, a look that could kill someone. "You alright?" he asks me, as he sits down opposite me. I don't answer, because I worry I will break down if I do. Kane works out I don't want to speak, quickly.

Reaching forward, he takes my injured foot into his hand. I grimace in pain, but allow him to stretch my leg out. There is a heavy moment of pause, as Kane lays my foot on his lap. I watch as he carefully removes my boot, and then my sock. It's silent as he checks over my foot.

"We may have to cut it off" Kane says, studying my foot.

"What?" I yell, scared. Kane chuckles softly under his breath; it's the first time I have ever heard him laugh.

"I'm kidding" he smirks. I glare at him again, as his fingers softly began to massage my sole. I wince at the pressure, but don't ask him to ease up any. We sit in silence for a long while, Kane's fingers working the muscles and tendons in my foot. When he's done, almost all the pain is gone.

"Thank you" I mutter, as Kane stands up and offers me his hands. I take his hands, and get to my feet; before dusting myself off.

"You make the contact with your shins, not your foot" Kane blurts out. It takes me a few seconds to work out that he is talking about kicking. "Here" he continues, "let me show you". Spinning on his heels, Kane delivers a swift kick to the punching bag. The thud vibrates through the room.

The loud, deep, sound of the kick made me think he must have hurt himself. But he didn't – the bag swung back from the hard kick and his foot returned to the ground. He steadied the punching bag, before gesturing for me to step forward. I did so.

Standing behind me, Kane places his hands on my hips. I freeze at the contact, but quickly recover and try focus on the technique he is trying to show me. "Swivel at the hips" Kane whispers into my ear, his hot breath fanning over my neck and making me shiver. "Meet the target with the midsection of the shin".

I nod, although I can't help but focus on the way that Kane's large hands rest on my hips, and the way his breath was blowing over my skin. Kane is a lot taller than me, so I can feel his presence above me – like a long shadow covering my body.

"You're not kicking" Kane whispers into my ear, I can hear the laughter in his breath. I snap out of my moment; realising I had awkwardly been frozen in Kane's hold.

"I might fall" I say.

"I'll catch you. Now, kick". He takes a step back, and I follow his instructions – swivel of the hips, target on the shin. It doesn't hurt like it did with my foot, and I get a good 'thud' sound from the bag as it swings back. However, I wobble unevenly as I step back.