Inhale

Chapter 20 - Win

"Never mind, we're starting right now–it's time to start," the Drill Sergeant declared, his voice resounding throughout the room, "let me remind you: weapons are not allowed–fatality injuring your partner is not allowed. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir!" we all replied in unison.

"Good," he stated, nodding, "let the training commence!"

"Okay, let's do a three-way, guys-" I cut myself off once I acknowledged the lack of a presence behind me. I turned to notice the duo missing. Shit . They meant it. I scanned the area, searching for the pair–no luck. Who's going to train with me now?

"Hello," an unfamiliar voice suddenly said to my left. I rotated my body to see an unfamiliar man standing near me.

He had dark skin, light brown locks, and the most beautiful brown eyes I've ever seen. Though he wasn't tall, he wasn't exactly my height, either—he was perfectly in the middle, around 5'6", and it made me feel uncomfortable. To be honest, that wasn't the only thing that made me feel on edge. He held no emotions, and though they were beautiful, his pupils were completely lifeless. He was like a rock: dull and nonchalant. However, the most unnerving part was the fact that I've never seen him before. I can't remember seeing him in the lunch hall, hallway, or even in this very room. For someone like him to remain undetected by my radar for so long was more than extraordinarily odd—it was mortifying. Despite not remembering names, I remember faces –however, why don't I remember his?

"Hello, do you need something?"

"I see that you don't have a partner," he commented.

"I don't," I murmured. Looking behind the man, I continued, "I see that you don't have one, either."

"Yes, that's right," he spoke in a peculiarly formal tone, and then proceeded to stare at me. Simply like that, we gazed at each other—both remaining taciturn. Awkward silence ensued, and an uneasy feeling settled in my chest. What is this feeling? I glanced around to see Phillip and Esmae in the corner across from me, training together. Traitors. I looked back at the man. He still has yet to say another word, yet he was still watched my every moment. What's wrong with him? I jumped once I heard him speak, and looked to face him. However, I didn't catch his words, and they were mere mumbles to my ear.

"What was that?"

"Do you want to be my partner?" he reiterated, a faint glint of irritation visible in his orbs.

"Yes," I said, then backed away from him. I mean, I don't have a choice: my two options are avoiding me. Once I made it to a safe distance, I got into a fighting stance. "I'm ready when you're ready."

"You should learn to prepare yourself better," he commented to my annoyance. However, before I could utter a word, he disappeared from sight, as if he had became invisible or had sped off in the speed of light. My breathing halted. Scanning my proximity for him, I looked to no avail. Shit. Where did he go? Noticing the heavy beat of my chest, I took slow breaths. Inhale, exhale—take in steady breaths. It'll be fine, Alastair—you simply need to calm down and continue searching. My gaze darted around, aiming for the raven-haired man. Soon, he came into view, poised and ready to throw a fist. I leaned back, managing to dodge him.

His eyebrows rose as he noticed he had past by me, and I grinned—however, that only caused his gaze to fall back on me, cold as ever. With a swift extension of his leg, he made me lose balance. I was falling—falling towards the ground. He's fast–even more so than Esmae. Instinctively, I pressed my hands on the floor and resisted the temptation to falter; I can't go down this fast.

Getting back into a fighting stance, I began to contemplate a plan. His strength: agility–his weakness: unknown. I rolled my head, gazing upon my opponent. I'll get a feel for his movements, and then I'll be fine... or so I'd like to believe. I simply- shit! While I was thinking to myself, the boy managed to graze my cheek with his sharp nails. Surprised by the sudden stinging sensation, I backed up. Touching my injury, I took note that he had cut through the second layer of skin—with a fingernail, of all things. I rotated to peer at him, who remained detached to his emotions. Irritated by the turn of events, I decided to scratch out the idea of assembling a plan.