ch. 15 mistakes live forever
Nathan's POV:
I pulled my chin up towards the metal bar sweat droplets trickled down my temple and hit the concrete pavement of the gym. My callused hands throbbed from holding only the bar for so long.
I took a quick intake of air and I released myself by letting go of the cold metal bar. My bare feet hit the ground and made a slapping sound, I cringed at the pins and needles that spread through my legs, I mumbled swear words under my breath and walked over to the bench. I leaned down into my bag and grabbed my water bottle then quickly chugged it down.
The water refreshed my dry throat the second I swallowed causing me to sigh out in the pleasure of the cold refreshing liquid. I chucked the bottle now empty bottle back into my bag.
100 chin-ups done. I contemplated doing more because of the energy that I gained from the fight with Luke this morning. Actually no, I will just have a quick round with the punching bag instead.
I grabbed my speaker remote from next to my bag and turned on the radio. After going through the songs I decided on 'Ante up' by M O PI pressed the button repeatedly and turned it up full volume. The music vibrated through the room shaking the floor.
I put the remote down and leaned forwards, grabbing a piece of old cream colored material from my bag and wrapped it around my bruised and cut knuckles. My eyes scanned over my callused skin. Years of fighting and hitting walls out of frustration does that to your hands.
I finished wrapping my knuckles with the material and tightened my fists for a couple seconds then relaxed my hand, happy with the way the material was holding up. The material was tight successfully covering my purple and blue fists.
I paced towards the platform and hauled myself up to the rope barrier, then hopped over the red ropes. Once on the platform, I walked towards the punching bag and started off with a few small right and left hooks. Left, right, left, right. After minutes my blood spread quickly through my veins while adrenaline rushed through me. The music was getting me hype.
With each punch, force shook the punting bag, my heart began hammering in my chest sweat covered my body. Droplets running down my temple, arms and back.
Even with the loud music, the hard dominating sounds of each punch caught my attention. I was in the zone. The more bruises I would surely get, didn't bother me. I just kept going, chucking hard uppercuts and right hooks into the punching bag with all the force I have.
Sweat trailed down my back on the trail of my spine, my hands were numb, my head was throbbing, my heart was hammering.
The song ended and I slammed the punching bag with a final deadly right hook, as hard as I could. My adrenaline levels lowered and the thoughts that I was trying to escape came flooding back in. My breath wavered and shivers crawled over my body. My hands began throbbing and blood leaked through the bandages from old cuts that had reopened.
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