Koa
It's easier to communicate through body language than words, especially when ones brain is an incoherent rush of hormones and desire and anger and pain. He tries not to see her as the beautiful girl who stole his heart and crushed in just as easily, he really does, but even the act of distancing himself is a reminder of what they cannot be. Normally Koa would be light and easy, throwing jokes as well as punches. Normally the blows wouldn't hurt his heart as well as his hands.
She's not bad. An eyebrow raises at the first punch, somewhat impressed by the force behind it, the skill in her stance. Someonewho isn't him has clearly been teaching her how to use her body as a weapon, and Koa nods approval. "That's good - but here, keep your thumb like this." The pads are divested between his knees; he reaches for her hands without thinking, calloused fingers brushing over her small, soft ones with electric heat as he repositions them, changes the clench of her fist.
It hurts.
He looks down at her silver eyes, and then quickly away, dropping the fist like a hot coal and swiftly stepping back. "There," he murmurs to the ground, furious with the heat that colors his ears. "Try again, see how it feels with your thumb out." The pads go back onto sweaty palms, the hands are raised again. Fuck, he doesn't know how he'll get through this.
She's not bad. An eyebrow raises at the first punch, somewhat impressed by the force behind it, the skill in her stance. Someone
It hurts.
He looks down at her silver eyes, and then quickly away, dropping the fist like a hot coal and swiftly stepping back. "There," he murmurs to the ground, furious with the heat that colors his ears. "Try again, see how it feels with your thumb out." The pads go back onto sweaty palms, the hands are raised again. Fuck, he doesn't know how he'll get through this.
i can't decide if it's a choice, getting swept away
