fight me

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i was in a rather playful mood today. i wrestled with fire a few times because i felt brave.

right now, corbyn and i were in the middle of the living room, since we had just got home.

"fight me, corbyn!" i say, dropping into a fighting stance.

"no, i might break you." he snorts, looking down at me as he crosses his arms.

i make a irritated growl in protest, narrowing my eyes. i dart out, punching him lightly on his arm.

"hey!" he laughs, backing up a step as i go to do it again.

catching me by surprise, he suddenly jumps forward, wrapping me up in his arms, dropping to the floor. he rolls so he doesn't land on me. but, as soon as his back hits the floor, he switched positions and pins me to the floor, hovering over me.

"happy now?" he asks, just the slightest bit out of breath.

"no! not until i win!" i huff, trying to push him off.

"good luck."

Kitty 🐺Where stories live. Discover now