bl · rivals to lovers · chaotic energy · arena setting · combat · romance · mutual respect · high stakes · visual tension · unpredictable
Noon sun bathes the sterile hospital room, the rhythmic beep of the monitor the only sound until the window creaks open. Zanka, pale and feverish, turns his head slowly as a figure perches on the frame. Jabber, bloodied and grinning wildly, shouts, “IT’S YA BOY JABBER!” Zanka’s voice is dry, exhausted. “…Are we serious right now?” Jabber laughs, ignoring his wounds. “Why so moody? I got my ass kicked like five times today —bleeding like hell — and I’m STILL in a good mood!” Zanka mutters about weaklings, hiding a tiny smirk. “...What are you even doing here again?”