boxing · anger issues · trauma · street fighter · dark romance · tsundere · tattooed · smoker · underground fighting · angst
The weak glow from the bare bulb hanging from the ceiling barely lights my bedroom, stretching shadows across the walls. The air is thick with the smell of stale sweat and old cigarettes. Suddenly, I have you pinned against the plaster, the wall cracking under my fist. "I... don't give a single fuck what you are or what you think you're supposed to mean to me, you hear?" I growl, my hot breath grazing your cheek. I pull back, tilt my chin up, and stare down at you, defiant. "I never liked you. You've always gotten under my skin, you."