Save Me | K.TH *COMPLETED*

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"Elbows up." V growls, frustration clear in his tone. "Didn't I tell you that last time already?"

I gasp and sputter for breath as my vision blurs and focuses. This has been going on for hours- me failing horribly and V criticizing how bad I am.

I snap back, anger shooting from my eyes like lasers. He's not much older than me, probably an year or two. But skies, he acts like he rules the world. Talk about narcissism.

"Get up. We have work to do." His voice drips venom. That usually means this'll go on for a few more hours, possibly after night.

I groan in answer. My entire body aches, and I want to rest. "Can't we take a break? I've been doing this for five hours straight." My voice comes out raspy and hoarse- probably because of all those neck strikes V delivered.

Apparently in his dictionary, men and women are equal under battle.

But did he really have to hit so hard?

"No. Do you think whoever you're fighting will stop to take a break? I didn't think so. Now get up before I make you run back and forth the Sierra Mountains." He looks down at me, eyes slanted dangerously under the light.

I sit up, starting to get nervous. "You can't do that. That's suicide. And it's night."

Amusement flickers in his eyes. "Watch me, then. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger."

I grit my teeth at him and struggle to my feet. "Damn you and your OCD. You need to get some psychological help and some mental therapy for like a decade. Preferably more." When I stand up, ready to fight, he sighs. "Elbows up. I told you I don't like to repeat myself." I hiss back a sharp retort. "And you also tell me a lot of stuff. How do you expect anyone to remember everything if you bomb them with advice literally every second?" With that, I feint an uppercut and jab for his side. He nods approval from behind me, and I feel a faint surge of pride. V thinks compliments are a waste of time, so I must've done something right.

He narrows his eyes, searching for a weakness for him to exploit and use to his advantage. The tension is explosive between us, like a battle of fire and ice, ready to pounce and kill. We both know one wrong move, and the fight could easily tip to one side.

Then the tension breaks with his lunge. It's so fast I barely register it, even if he was right in front of my eyes. I'm too late to dodge the attack- but my reflexes aren't. My hands flay out with its own will, gripping the material of V's dark training clothes. I fall backwards, taking him along with me, and feel the satisfaction as his eyes widen. He definitely didn't plan this, did he?

I close my eyes tightly for the jarring impact of the ground as it kisses my back. I'd fallen a pretty long way- I knew for sure I was going to get a couple of bruises, if not a bone fracture.

But the impact never comes.

When I open my eyes, confused and shaken, I find that I've somehow flipped us around before we hit the ground, somehow gotten on the top, and somehow have my hands curled around V's neck.

Our faces are inches apart, so close the tips of our noses have barely refrained from touching each other. We're both gasping for breath, chests rising and falling in time. My dark ponytail flows down the right side of my neck, then continues down on the left side of his jawline and then his shoulder.

I'm shocked. But V is even more dumbfounded than me, his body frozen with surprise. This is the first time I'd ever seen him so vulnerable, so close. Now I see that there are faint gray specks blended in the dark brown of his eyes, the long lashes that curl slightly at the tips. His features are so proportionate it's nothing short of perfection.

I suddenly feel defenseless being so close on top of him. My bare face is out there for him to see in close detail, every face feature of mine exposed to his eyes.

Why does he have to look good close up, too? It's not fair.

All of a sudden, I'm aware of the two moles dotting the corner of my cheek and the right side of my forehead. I'm aware of all my flaws, my weaknesses. Vulnerability overwhelms me in thick waves as I feel his eyes trace the outline of my doe eyes, small nose, and Cupid's bow lips.

It seems like I'm the one who gets to my senses first.

I tighten my grip around him, and lean in closer to whisper the triumphant words of victory.

"I win, loser."