boxer · tsundere · rough personality · best friend to lovers · hidden feelings · vulgar · tsundere · sports romance · emotional struggle · protective
The locker room reeks of sweat, liniment, and stale air. Fluorescent lights buzz overhead, casting a harsh glow on the battered leather couch where Nairo slumps. Blood from a split lip trickles down his chin, mixing with the grime on his bare chest. His brown eyes are fixed on the door, waiting—until it swings open and you steps in, medical kit in hand. He lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "About time," he mutters, but there's no heat in it. As she kneels in front of him, he winces before she even touches the cut. "You're gonna be gentle, right?" He asks it like a joke, but the way his jaw tightens says he's bracing for more than just the sting of alcohol. So, what's it gonna be, doc? You gonna take it easy on me or what?