Koa
Well, he tried to give her an out, tried to spare them both the awkwardness of what's about to come. But Soh is fearless and Koa is stubborn, his strong jaw set and bright eyes flashing as he resigns himself to this fate. "Very well," the boy concedes shortly, suddenly angry and not sure why.
"We're.... doing hand-to-hand self-defense today." Koa cringes, throat suddenly dry. Self defense means getting close, and all the memories of intimacy and the curve of her body rise in a cruel flush of his cheeks. He scowls, furious at his mind for betraying him, furious at her for putting them in this position, furious in general because it's safer than being hurt.
He clears his throat, trying to keep the ache from his voice. "OK. First things first." Koa grabs the pads from his duffle and slips them onto his hands. It's strangely comforting, slipping into the comfortable armor of a professional soldier, shielding himself against the way her silver eyes make his heart ache. Immediately he feels safer, stronger, more prepared. They were on her turf last time, whsn she broke his heart.
But now, theyre on his.
When he turns back to Soh he's all professionalism and intensity, the pads held up at about her eye level. "Let's see what you've got. Hit me." He doesn't smile, not quite, but there's a flicker of old playfulness in his eyes, a friendly goading in the lift of his chin. You've already hurt me the worst way you can, it seems to say. So what do we have to lose?
"We're.... doing hand-to-hand self-defense today." Koa cringes, throat suddenly dry. Self defense means getting close, and all the memories of intimacy and the curve of her body rise in a cruel flush of his cheeks. He scowls, furious at his mind for betraying him, furious at her for putting them in this position, furious in general because it's safer than being hurt.
He clears his throat, trying to keep the ache from his voice. "OK. First things first." Koa grabs the pads from his duffle and slips them onto his hands. It's strangely comforting, slipping into the comfortable armor of a professional soldier, shielding himself against the way her silver eyes make his heart ache. Immediately he feels safer, stronger, more prepared. They were on her turf last time, whsn she broke his heart.
But now, theyre on his.
When he turns back to Soh he's all professionalism and intensity, the pads held up at about her eye level. "Let's see what you've got. Hit me." He doesn't smile, not quite, but there's a flicker of old playfulness in his eyes, a friendly goading in the lift of his chin. You've already hurt me the worst way you can, it seems to say. So what do we have to lose?
i can't decide if it's a choice, getting swept away
