Scars and Bruises

Brown locks that seemed to splash against anyone within arm's reach whenever it was windy, jet black orbs that seemed endless, a body carved into perfection hidden in those clothes made to bring her comfort not to impress, and legs that seemed to go on forever whenever she gives a flying kick against her opponent. She was the epitome of perfection and grace.

Gwyneth.

A name uttered by the referee once the fight was done that sent shivers down the spines of the bystanders as they hollered in response; she gave me the chills. Our eyes met and I somehow expected her to look shocked or at least frightened, instead she gave me a wink.

And I was the one shocked to say the least.