BOXER

twenty three

The first move Luke made was to take a few steps back, and it proved to be a smart move as not even a complete second later, his opponent swung his fist so powerfully towards Luke that he could feel the gust of wind from it even when he was quite a bit away from him.

It was obvious that this man primarily used power and force, which was smart, considering his size. Although Luke didn't have that option considering his lanky body, so he depended on speed and hopefully tiring his opponent out. He of course still used force, although it was no match for his opponent, and he really only had a chance if the other man was tired.

It was critical that he be careful though, because with the swings his opponent was offering, it seemed as if one would knock out Luke on the spot. And he wasn't trying to end up unconscious in the middle of the ring again.

Luke's body began to lift itself off the ground - jumping not only raised his adrenaline but also made it easier to execute his block technique. It usually was difficult to depend on blocking and be able to sense what direction the punches were coming from and block them in such a short amount of time. It was something that required a lot of training, and somehow Luke had mastered it.

Every time he'd duck or dodge a swing, he could physically see the expression on his opponent's face become more irate, and instead of intimidating Luke, it only encouraged him. It was working. The praise from the crowd and the opponent's obvious frustration was quickly entailing Luke to gain confidence, probably too much confidence for his own good.

Luke's quick movements came to a halt for a brief moment, giving himself a chance to get a few hits in. It was already too late by the time the blond realized that by him no longer being in motion, it also gave his opponent free range as well.

Luke got an outstanding number of two swings in until he felt the ever so familiar sting in his face as his opponent's fist collided with it.

The boy stumbled back as he held his face in one hand, the punch entailed as much pain as he expected it to. The hit had drawn blood but the sight and taste of the fluid had become very familiar to him already, so it wasn't anything alarming.

Thankfully, he recovered quickly, grateful that it didn't do as much damage as it could have. And within seconds he was jumping around the ring again.

This match was truthfully unlike most of his matches, as usually he wouldn't go this long without attempting to swing much. Hell, usually the tactic was to attack like crazy. As long as he wasn't knocked out, the person with the most amount of punches would win. But he knew he couldn't do that this time. Not when his opponent's fists were the size of his head.

The sound of the bell ringing to indicate that the round had come to an end created some relief in Luke, and his body came to a halt as he returned to his corner of the ring.

As he took a sip of water, he noticed Brielle walking towards the ring from her seat. It was just her and a few other people who worked at the arena that were in the closed off area - considering how his friends didn't care enough to come see him fight anymore. It didn't bother him much though, as he would've rather had her there than anybody else.

She looked up at Luke with narrowed eyes as she reached him, and his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to figure out why she was looking at him like that.

"You have blood on your face." Her words were said in a neutral tone though were a bit loud in order for him to be able to hear her over the crowd as she pointed to the general area of her face.

"I literally just got punched, Brielle."

"Does it taste good?"

"Tastes like blood."