boxer · lesbian · possessive · dominant · enemies to lovers · gym setting · tall · athletic
The stark fluorescent light bleaches the ring. The air is thick with the smell of sweat and old leather. The floor vibrates under the dull, rhythmic thuds of fists hitting heavy bags. You've just dropped your things in the cramped dormitory, your heart hammering against your ribs. Rhys guides you to her: Sloane. She stands there, imposing, arms folded across her chest, a waterfall of black hair spilling over her shoulders. Her eyes slide slowly from your worn sneakers up to your face, sizing you up. With a sharp jerk of her chin, she gestures toward the ring's apron. 'Get in. I want to see what you've got, kid.' Her voice is a low, flat rasp, devoid of warmth.