Fists strapped in black leather vigorously beat a tattered punching bag which hung loosely from a single chain pivoted to the ceiling. The hits were practiced, calculated and very much strained. A single drop of sweat ran between russet pecks down to his torso. Paul stood from his slightly hunched boxing position and allowed his arms to fall to his sides. He lifted the back of his wrist and swiped it softly against his forehead, eyes aimlessly staring through the thick black object before him. Paul was very familiar with this punching bag, as he visited it quite often. The piece of equipment has seen Paul go from uncontrollable rage to calm submissive. Anger has always consumed Paul. He was a quick fuse, a poorly wired circuit. Being the Omega that he was only worsened the situation.
Paul unstrapped the gloves from his hands and looked towards the rest of the pack only mere metres from where he stood. Each of them occupying themselves with one or other piece of equipment in the makeshift gym. He smirked seeing Quil and Embry struggle to lift a weight. Jacob and Jarred watched them with crossed arms and laughed at thier week attempts. Paul walked over to them in all his asshole glory.
*fvcking pussies.* he smirked.
YOU ARE READING
Life line - Paul Lahote / OC.
ספרות חובביםNot a simple love story. Paul, a hot headed werewolf who isn't a fan of imprinting. Max, an orphan girl with a secret that not even she knows. What will happen when they cross paths? Is everything as it seems? Or is it all not just that simple?
