DAMIEN
I know it's been a long time coming
I'm angry and I know that's weak
I'm angry and I know that's weak
Her fingers curling at his wrists send a brief thrill of challenge through him, the sharp cold of the night mingling with the spark between them, raw and unyielding. He catches her movement as she shifts, just in time to feel the subtle shift in pressure that loosens his grip.
When she slips free and plants a palm against his chest, pushing with a practiced force, Damien stumbles back slightly but recovers with a grunt, eyes locked on her every move. The taste of winter air fills his lungs, clean, biting, and electric.
The space between them tightens, tension humming like a taut wire. "Don't worry, I'm paying attention," Damien grins - yes, grins, his eyes narrowing with a flicker of respect as she circles like a shadow on the snow.
He lets her build up her attack, he doesn’t flinch right away. Instead, he shifts his weight, feet firm in the packed snow, grounding himself.
From the outside, Damien looks as if he's going to absorb the hit.
But it's just a feint, meant to draw her focus. A hunter readying a trap. Her fist will find nothing but air as he twists his body sharply, spinning around on her with as much speed and precision as he can muster. As he turns, he throws out a controlled elbow toward her ribs—precise and firm enough to make its point without causing real harm. "Are you?"
When she slips free and plants a palm against his chest, pushing with a practiced force, Damien stumbles back slightly but recovers with a grunt, eyes locked on her every move. The taste of winter air fills his lungs, clean, biting, and electric.
The space between them tightens, tension humming like a taut wire. "Don't worry, I'm paying attention," Damien grins - yes, grins, his eyes narrowing with a flicker of respect as she circles like a shadow on the snow.
He lets her build up her attack, he doesn’t flinch right away. Instead, he shifts his weight, feet firm in the packed snow, grounding himself.
From the outside, Damien looks as if he's going to absorb the hit.
But it's just a feint, meant to draw her focus. A hunter readying a trap. Her fist will find nothing but air as he twists his body sharply, spinning around on her with as much speed and precision as he can muster. As he turns, he throws out a controlled elbow toward her ribs—precise and firm enough to make its point without causing real harm. "Are you?"
(Training 4/4)
And I'm longing out that open window
For whatever it is I seek
For whatever it is I seek
