Lightbringer | Kai Parker Fanfic

Seven

McKinley, Virginia – October 2012

As I jog toward my training spot, lost in the less visited area of the woods around campus, I try to contain a yawn. Without too much surprise, Luke is already here, trying to throw a few punches at my punch bag. I can't fight a proud smile at the sight of him training on his own while only a couple weeks ago, he would have been waiting for me, hands stuck in the pockets of his jacket.

The sandy-blond witch sees me from the corner of his eye and stops punching.

"Keep your guard up," I simply say, nodding at him to go back to it.

"Where have you been?"

"Not your concern."

"You're late."

"Barely," I say, rolling my eyes, while I walk behind the punch bag in order to keep it in place, "Come on, focus."

"Were you at Eric's again?" he asks, throwing in a strong punch.

"Steven's. Eric is hot but he would cage me if he could."

"And yet, you keep going back for more."

"Occasionally. And how was your date with Jay anyway?" I retort.

"Low blow," he mumbles, throwing in a stronger punch.

He seems to tense though, and I can feel the atmosphere just changed. I understand it didn't go as well as he expected. Luke's face progressively falls, as he keeps throwing more and more punches. I say nothing for a while, simply holding the bag and letting him externalize his anger. It's not something he does very often; externalize. Over knowing him, I have discovered Lucas is basically a ball of emotions; he's just better at hiding it than you would expect.

When he suddenly stops, panting and sweating, I watch him intently. I've taken the habit of assessing him for other purposes than clan reports lately; more in a way that helps me figure out whether he needs sarcasm or silence.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No. It's stupid. This whole thing is stupid. And pointless. Everything is so damn pointless!"

He's shouting now and I am glad we are somewhere remote from any living place. He then throws his – my – training gloves to the ground and heads to his sports bag.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm done," he says, drying his forehead in his towel.

"Not nearly; I just got here–"

"Well, next time you might wanna think about that before getting laid with whomever. You're always late when you go to a guy's place anyway."

"Yeah, because despite what you might think, I actually need to sleep from time to time."

"Not the point."

"Look, I'm sorry about being late. I'm not used to having a protégé to train before dawn. This time is supposed to be me-time, okay? And you've never had to wait for more than fifteen minutes, which only happened once."

"One more reason to drop these stupid training sessions," he says, gathering his stuff in order to leave, "I'd hate to crash your me-time again." I use supernatural speed to appear in front of him and block his way.

"Hey, I get that you're pissed," I say sharply," but we've been through this you and I. You need to train."

"Do I."

"Yes! God, Lucas, do I need to remind you how close you recently got to being beat up by Tyler? Or of that one time when Enzo drugged you magicless?"