New Inception

𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒗𝒆

          ∙ Alexya

Once  I am changed to externalize my overflow of feelings, I go where my enemy is training since about one hour now. Wearing wide shorts and a sports bra like if it was summer, I walk around the house passing by the garage where Cas hides a few beautiful cars.

I am facing the door, questioning myself if I really want to be in the same room as him; because the last two times when we were in the same room alone, it didn't finish well.

No, you know what? Whatever, I'm not the one who is looking for problems. If he has something to reproach to me, I wouldn't listen to him and will continue my activities as it started.

I open the door without making too much noise. I have in front of me a room as big as the other rooms of this huge house, a lot of machines are in here, placed on the grey ground that seems to be concrete. I take a look on my left and I see...

Dear lord... Cas, bare chested, drops of sweat rolling on his powerful and muscly chest. We can perfectly see his abs and the V a little lower; I am amazed by the roundness of his shoulders and the diameter of his arms which must surely be as wide as my thighs. His ebony hair is in battle leaving a few strands in front of his eyes and a few more drops fall from those there. I turn crimson red when I notice that he is looking at me too, but definitely not the same way. He looks at me with arrogance and amusement at the same time. While I...

No shut up, I'm an observer, period!

-How much longer do you plan on checking me out? Can I continue what I'm doing, or do you want to touch while you're at it?

My eyes widen when I realize what he just said. I cross my arms and frown trying to convince myself and especially him that I wasn't "checking him out".

-I'm letting you know that you're looking at me too. I reply still with my arms crossed on my chest, probably as protection.

Instead of saying something, he laughs and turns his back on me, like if he wasn't believing me. First, do I believe myself about this? Absolutely not. But one thing is sure, I don't want to touch him because his skin on mine is like poison, a thing unhealthy and repugnant. The few times he even just touched my skin or part of my body, I felt like I was taking an acid shower; and these few times are too much. After all he is a man like another, every single touch from a man is poisonous, except Steve's contacts.

A sound of a dumbbell falling to the ground makes me realize that I was lost in my thoughts, I don't want to imagine my face in these moments.

I raise my head and see a punching bag further into the room. I lead myself in front of this and start punching it; gently because if I don't, I'm going to hurt myself. Jabs, crosses, uppercuts, hooks, kicks and nudges; the bag receives everything and moves in the direction of my blows. Despite this violence which increases little by little, it doesn't give in.

I feel so good right now, it's been a long time that I hadn't kicked something this way. The last time I kicked someone was...when I was fighting to run at the bottom of the building.

After spending a few minutes struggling with this same bag, I step back slowly and out of breath. I look at the ceiling to open my airways and I close my eyes; I already said it but damn it's so good to let go. A little smile on my lips, I face this bag again and prepare to continue my relaxing activity but something thrown at me stops me. I turn in the direction of the only person present in this room who is none other than the tall dark-haired man who looks menacing, as always.

I raise my eyebrows, and I don't need to speak for him to justify his action.

-Before you blame me for anything, look at your feet. He says with a scornful tone moving his head in the direction of my feet.