Adrenaline

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Adrenaline

Reeling from the adrenaline rush from the fight, I ran all the way home, a whole kilometre away from the arena that held all my glorious moments. People stared while I ran, the wound on my head throbbing evidently with blood flowing freely down the gash at the side of my forehead. Not to mention that sweat and blood was not exactly the best combination put together to conjure up the beast’s wrath. I smirked to myself; of course I would refer to myself as a beast, a fighter at that.

Slowing down my pace, I eventually stopped my victory run beside a fire hydrant, leaning on it as though it was my life support. The blood was dripping down my chin now and it was getting rather annoying. Without thinking, I pulled my tight fitting blue shirt over my head and used it to gruffly wipe away the line of blood that had formed on my cheek.

Putting the stained blue shirt at arm’s length like it was dirty laundry, I drew my phone from my other pocket, putting it to camera mode straightaway.

Making sure my trademark smirk was gracing my features, I took a picture of myself, making sure I focused a little too much on the bleeding wound and posted it up on my online page. Captioned, I wrote “The beastliest champ of today”. Smiling at what I wrote for myself, I tucked my phone back into my back pocket and spared the stained shirt a last glance before using it as a headband to officially stop the bleeding.

And well, I was officially half-naked as well.

If the number of stares I received before was uncountable, then it would probably be way over the staring limit by now.

With my dashing wound all covered up and bound tight, all that was left for these onlookers was my “perfectly defined core muscles”, words that I might have called cheesy if not for someone else who was ogling at my abs and saying those words with drool dripping down her chin in wonder, not once looking up at my face to check the amusement that was masking the rest of my facial expressions.

Not that I was complaining anyway, well, until a hand landed itself on my shoulder with a bit too much pressure than was necessary to be considered a friendly gesture. Immediately, my whole frame tensed, poised to strike out at the person who would dare lay a hand on the most gorgeous champ that the person had ever laid his eyes upon–

“Hey bro, mind wearing a shirt?”

Turning my head around with a bit too much force, I took a fleeting glance at my so-called attacker and heard my neck crack, my face contorting into an embarrassing shade of red.

My sister was using me as her life support after running after me a whole kilometre away from the arena while I leant against the short fire hydrant. I totally forgot she was there at the arena with me, probably waiting for me so that we could go get some celebratory dinner after my victory... but no, I just had to run home by myself.

“Ouch – oh hi – ouch – sis! – argh – nice of you – ugh – to check on my shirt!” I said it earnestly, not knowing what in the world I was saying until I heard her tinkling laugh echo throughout the silence while I rubbed at my sore neck, which she caused.

“Check on your shirt?” she spluttered, barely able to control her full-out guffawing by this time. “Sure, if you want me to.” Then she made an exaggerated motion of checking my stained headband, taking my head into her hands and making sure her fingers deliberately pressed against my wound.

Wincing, I yelled for her to stop, squirming to get out of her vice-like grasp. Laughing non-stop, she drew her hands back from my face and released her grip almost instantly, which I took advantage of and cradled my already hurt forehead in my hands.

Putting on a look of fake shock, she asked me worriedly, moving forward as she did so. "Oh gosh, Ty, you alright?" 

Instantly retreating from her approaching figure, I shouted back at her, "No! Wait, I mean, yes! I'm perfectly alright! Purr-fect!" I emphasised. All she did was drop to the floor, clutching her stomach in uncontrollable laughter. And I was totally fine with that. Totally.

Turning back to my original direction, I started walking away, putting my hands back down into my pockets, glad that they were deep enough for me to maintain my 'too cool for sister' look.

“Hey! Where are you going? Aren’t you even going to lend your wonderful sis a helping hand?” Trinity’s voice became softer as I continued walking away. Holding in my laughter, I thought back to how we were so alike. Arrogance and all.

“I suppose you won’t want dinner then...” I heard the teasing edge in her voice as I stopped in my tracks, hearing my stomach growl. It just took that to get the hardly standing Trinity to fall back on the ground laughing again. I sighed, it was definitely going to be a long victory dinner, or whatever Trinity had in store for my victory win.

[A/N] To be honest, I've been wanting to post this short story up ever since I first completed it but haven't had the time to. I wanted to continue and expand this story further but again, time issues... So I decided to just make a 'short story book' to compile all the ideas I have and if I were to continue the story I'll just upload it separately. Thanks for supporting hehe

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