Simple Sweetness

Chapter 10

Darien needed to blow off some steam. He was so wound up with conflicting feelings, of needing her but not wanting to be tied down. The connection they shared could not be denied, every time he was near her. That ethereal tether would pull him ever closer, charging his mind and body with a state of bliss he was reluctant to let go of. He hadn't felt so content in the pressence of another person as he did with her, since his parents died. It tore him up inside that she didn't trust him, that he had wounded her so deeply. That perhaps he had broken them and could not repair their relationship. It filled him with such a sense of panic he could barely breath. It aggravated him even more that she had seen their first kiss as an act of desperation to heal them. And on some level he had to admit it was...

He felt ready to scream. The war that waged inside of him left his whole body burning with a noxious energy. That needed to be released. Storming into the gym, after normal training hours was bad enough. Having not been around for the last few weeks was even worse, considering Sarge had such high hopes for him as a contender.

Pushing through the beaten in metal front door, the gym was oddly bright. Blinding him for a moment, as he squinted to clear his vision under the florescent lighting. Flickering high above from long lamp posts that hung from the curved metal ceiling above. Sarges office sat on the opposite side from the long windows and exercise equipment. A tiny closet like space, the old man pretty much lived in, during the evenings. Trying in vain to finish up his paper work for the day to day running of the gym. The business end of it wasn't his passion, but it was a necessity.

Beside his office was the archway to the group washroom, and lockers. The whole place after years of use, now smelled like sweat and old socks. Darien loved that smell!

The open main area of the warehouse was set up logically for only training purposes, there was nothing fun or frivolous inside. Several bright red leather sand bags hung from the rafter's just off from the dented metal front door. With several more speed bags hanging nearby. A few yards away was a huge area of mats, for grappling and cardio, such as pushup, and curl ups. Metal chin up bars were bolted to the brick wall near the mats. Weight benches and various other styles of weight lifting machines stood against one wall. Several long windows hovered over the equipment, that allowed for a little light. Which didn't do much to brighten the dingy interior during the day. At the far back of the warehouse was a caged boxing ring, built in an octagonal shape. Fondly called the 'Thunder dome" by his gym mates. That was were all the sparing took place, and getting his ass handed to him by Kane pretty much daily. The monster just loved to punish him, using him as some kind of strange crash test dummy for his new fighting moves. That mat had seen more of his blood and sweat then any or them.

Sarge was grumbling over a stack of bills, upon the clutter of his desk. The light from his old black metal goose neck desk lamp adjusted to focus upon the papers. The rest of his little office remained in bitter shadow. Vague outlines of a massive cork board was mounted on one wall. Plastered with posters, schedules and old photo's. An old dull grey couch, that looked like something garage sale worthy. Sat in a sad sagging state under the board. Sharp light filtered in through the open front door to his office, creating a pillar of light to brighten only a short column of the darkness within the room. The faint light, shimmering upon the glass of a trophy case pushed up against the opposing wall. Filled with a life time of mementos of a proud fighting career.

Sarge leaned back in his vintage wooden wide back chair, with a grunt. That responded to the man's muscle bound weight with a plaintive squeak. Sarge was a short man compared to his six foot and over students. With a wild ring of grey hair, the was always a fly away mess over his large ears. The very top of his head always shiny. As the man seemed to constantly gather a sheen of sweat there, doing just about anything. A boxer in his day, he still possessed the strong body of an athlete. His hands overly large, with many enlarged veins from his years of using them as weapons.