Ghost of You

f i f t e e n

"Quit doing that."

Steve and I were facing off, circling each other on a few mats he had set up in the gym. I was grateful he had set them up because I kept finding myself on them, sprawled out in an uncomfortable position. 

"Doing what?" I asked, dodging his attempt to hit my shoulder and scrambling around to the other side of the mat. 

"You're evading. That's not what I'm trying to teach you." He said, tilting his head slightly. "How are you going to get any better at striking if all you do is run away?"

He tried to punch me again but I ducked just in time, his fist meeting thin air.

"I'm playing the long game." I shrugged. "Soon enough you'll get tired and that's when I'll swoop in and- umfhg."

The end of my sentence was cut off when he managed to land a blow directly in my stomach, sending me stumbling backwards and flying off the mats. My arms waved around like a windmill as I struggled to keep my balance. I managed to not fall over, but didn't climb my way back onto the mats, instead I stood there with my hands on my hips trying to catch my breath, deciding if I really wanted to keep putting myself through this.

"Tired already, Princess?" He smirked.

I narrowed my eyes in his direction, climbing back onto the mat against my better judgement. 

"This time I want you to approach me." He instructed. "Don't be afraid to hit too hard, I can take it."

Resisting the temptation to mumble a few choice words regarding where I'd like to hit him, I raised my arms, taking a steadying breath before continuing to spar with him. I sent a few punches his way, he dodged the first two with ease, the third one clipped his shoulder but hurt my knuckles more than it affected him. The man was practically a giant rock, every time I tried to hit him my hand would bounce back in pain as if I had just punched a boulder. 

This wasn't my real problem though. Deep into my fourth training session with Steve, I was coming to the realization that I just really didn't like hitting people, and I really was starting to miss my punching bag. 

I came forward with my arms raised, digging my knee into his chest once and then punching the same spot twice when he didn't bother to block the area. He took one step back to maintain his balance but was otherwise unfazed.

"Why are you still pulling your punches?" He glared at me. "I know you can hit harder than this."

"I'm not pulling anything." I hissed, elbowing him in the stomach and following it with an uppercut towards his chin but he deflected both easily. "You have super-strength it's not my fault you can't feel anything."

"Bullshit." He called still staring me down angrily. "I've been hit by people weaker than you and still felt it."

I backed away from him slightly, jumping and spinning up into the air the way he had taught me. My foot went flying into his chest and he stumbled backwards and into a crouched position. But he was quicker than me. By the time I had landed he had already regained his balance, and he reached out for my ankle on my second leg before it could hit the ground.

I toppled over onto my back, my head whacking painfully against the mat. The wind was knocked out of me, and I struggled to catch my breath. I felt like one of those cartoons where the character gets punched and then sees stars circling around their head. Blinking rapidly, I tried to refocus my vision only before I could focus in on the various tubes and pipes attached to the ceiling above, Steve's face was there, only about three inches from mine. 

I guess until just now I had been too out of it to notice he had crawled on top of me. He was essentially doing some sort of plank above me, keeping himself balanced on his forearms, and effectively trapping me in. Our feet were intertwined, my left in between both of his, and his right in between both of mine. He scanned my face, his crystal blue gaze sending sharp icicles falling and digging into my skin everywhere he looked until they came to rest with a piercing stare directly into my own.