Newborn

PART TWENTY-NINE

We stood in the middle of the room, barefoot on the cold, white tiles as the lounges and table acted like a makeshift ring. Darien quickly grabbed the remote from the coffee table and switched the TV onto the music station, flicking through the channels until he found something with a decent beat.

"Show me what you've got," he said. "I want to know what I'm working with."

I didn't even hesitate before springing at him.

He remained in his place, watching me with an amused expression as he blocked my advances with ease. I threw random strikes at him, though I think my hand movements kind of resembled a lioness or large cat of some type.

His words confirmed as much. "Easy there, tiger."

He grabbed hold of my wrists; his eyes glued onto mine for a moment before he gently guided me backward.

"Not bad for an amateur," he said. "There's something wild about your movements, which is good. It works in your favour because it's unpredictable. Most people have a subconscious pattern they follow, but not you."

My lips twitched to the side.

"Don't get too confident. You still need to work on a lot of things. Mainly on your battle stance and punches, which are sloppy." He seemed to be watching me like a hawk as he approached me and grabbed my hand. Instantly, I was very aware of his proximity, his closeness.... I felt a buzz of electricity flow up my arm as his icy fingers slid against my skin to correct the way my fist was balled. He moved my thumb, so that it was no longer tucked away behind my fingers, and then placed my arms more upright, so that my fists sat almost at eye-level. He looked at me for a moment, with a tilted head, before he moved my right arm so that it sat slightly lower than my left, and then he moved around me in circles. My head turned so that my eyes could follow him as he looked me up and down, and then placed me so that I was turned slightly on my side, legs a little apart, and back straight. "Better." He nodded his approval.

I felt a little awkward but held the position.

Darien stood before me again, only now he mirrored my battle stance. "I'm going to strike you in two places," he told me, moving his arm forward in one quick motion, so that his fist lightly tapped my right cheek. "There," he said, and then his other fist tapped against my ribcage. "And there." Darien straightened up and his posture was aggressive as his onyx eyes streamed into mine. "Your only job is to try and block me."

"Gotcha." I nodded.

At first, the task seemed simple enough.

He moved forward, I inched back, and when he moved his left arm, I was quick to block him with my right.

He went left again, and I blocked him with ease.

It wasn't long before we had developed a slow, even pattern, which I quickly adapted to—left, left, right. Right, right, left.

I noticed that he was circling around me like a shark as his pace was gradually quickening, but I was managing to keep up. That was until he broke the formation and his left fist struck my cheek. It wasn't a hard collision, but it was enough to throw me back.

"Ouch!" I said, rubbing my cheek. "No fair! You broke the pattern!"

"Lesson one: expect the unexpected." His accent was strong as he continued rounding me up with his dance-like steps. It occurred to me then that he was lining me up to be exactly where he wanted me to be, so that he could better dictate the combat. "Your attacker may play mind games with you by forming a pattern in their movements—this is strategy. Don't fall victim to it."