30 Day Challenge

Surprise!

She heaved, rolling her shoulders a bit. Her neck ever so slightly stretching to the side. She lifted her arms up, hands in fists. A steady position taking place with her footing. Blinking twice, she launched ahead.

He blocked the attack, not wanting to punch back as she has already taken a blow to the gut not long ago. They had pushed away from each other, catching their breath.

Arturia cracked a grin, dipping over towards the wooden weapon she had discarded what seemed like eons ago.

Diarmuid took this chance to his advantage, reaching over to another wooden weapon to his right.

When they faced each other once again, they were armed—wide smiles on both their faces.

"Not bad," Arturia breathed, trying to calm her lungs down despite her aching diaphragm, "You have quick reflexes."

"And you have quick thinking." He complimented, returning the gesture before bringing his weapon up to a battling position.

"It would have been great to film your defeat. As you are a formidable opponent." She readied her sword, wiping the sweat from her brow and preparing for an attack.

The man took a steady breath before propelling himself forwards, swinging the wooden lance to land a hit.

She blocked the attack without a thought, leaping to her right while she withdrew her sword.

"You need better footwork," she spoke, her breathing quickening now, "Try to glide more instead of stomping."

He frowned, "And you need to work on your breathing exercises."

Arturia gave a breathless laugh, "I have not been practicing as of late, and—if I do recall correctly—I would not be nearly as out of breath if you had not winded me with that punch," she rolled her shoulders again as they circled one another, both trying to find an opening.

The blonde saw her chance, her feet moving quickly as if it had been one step. She launched the sword, catching his arm just for a tad second before he leapt back.

"I assume I should work on my feet. You have grace when you attack."

"Thank you," Her head gave a short nod before she parried his own attack.

They tried to land a hit on one another, but with the other's reflexes; it was getting rather difficult. Arturia had scratched the young man a couple of times with the wooden weapon and Diarmuid had returned the favour by whacking her hand a couple of times.

They were unarmed once again, both a panting mess while Arturia rubbed her now red hand. They had resulted to end the training in the next ten minutes and so they were just catching their breath—hopefully tonight there would be a definite winner, unlike the other times.

Their muscles were protesting the ten-minute deal, specially the bruised ones, but they wouldn't stop yet.

Arturia stepped forward, readying her fist to make the first attack. Her hair is a mess now, the ponytail basically on the verge of falling. The stray stands of hair messily hovering around her head almost like a halo. Sweat glistened her forehead and arms as it had been about half a day just dueling and they were both exhausted.

She panted and they began again with the silent cues of the look in her eyes. She threw a punch but he mind was not quick enough to process how it was that they landed on the floor; the exhaustion was truly getting to her.

She groaned a few seconds after she hit the floor, her grip tightening around Diarmuid's arms as he had fallen on top of her, also beyond energy.

Arturia managed a cough as the man formulated an apology.

"Maybe we should stop here," she grunted, still gasping for air, "Another tie."

"I apologize," he slowly and painfully pushed off from her, his own pained cry.

They usually fell with exhaustion on days that they had duel for such a long time, but it seemed that today was a whole new experience—they really were beat; what with all the punches they took.

He was hovering over her while he tried to steady himself so that he wouldn't fall again.

She was looking up at him, and she felt herself pushing up as well, off the matted floor. She coughed, catching her breath with a gasp and then, just as Diarmuid had found his footing and was well prepared to stand up and away from her, she took a hold of his black shirt and pulled him down towards her; lips crashing.

He yelped as they fell back on the mat.

It was a sloppy kiss, what more was expected from the two fatigued individuals?

At first rather surprised, Diarmuid slowly sank into the kiss, appreciating the small calloused hand that slowly skimmed over his neck and gently gripped his hair. Her lips were chapped against his smooth ones and he could feel his chest bursting with his heart beat, his ribs painfully aching.

They had to pull away from each other, there was no way that they could survive even a single second longer as Arturia had still been recovering from the punch to her diaphragm and Diarmuid had lost his breath when she pulled him into the kiss.

Arturia let her head fall and rest on the floor while she grunted. She looked up at him for he was still hovering over her, trying to steady his breathing.

"That was..." Arturia landed her cloudy green eyes on his lips.

"Amazing."

"A mistake."

They had both responded at the same time, the soft and heartfelt smile on Diarmuid's lips slowly faded, "Oh."

Arturia was looking away, trying to find her sanity again, it had probably fallen when they crashed to the floor earlier.

"Right." Diarmuid gulped, clearing his throat and preparing to push off her once again.

She looked back up at him, his eyes averting her gaze. Arturia did not think twice, "This one will not be," she murmured.

He could not process her words properly before she pulled him back to her lips, this time their kiss was gentle and much more clean cut—unlike the sloppy first one.

Diarmuid hesitantly moved his lips against hers and she immediately responded in the same sweet and soft fashion.

The rattling of the door knob made her push Diarmuid off herself throwing him a good foot away and making him groan in pain as she shot up just as the door swung open.

"There you are, my wife, I have been looking for you for over an hour. Kotomine, that mutt said he could not find you—he is nothing but a useless imbecile." The man in snake skin pants stood cross-armed at the door frame, "Do not tell me, love, that you were sparring with this sorry excuse of a warrior."

Arturia growled, "Why, in fact, I was. Lancer is a formidable opponent." She somehow managed to stand up, albeit a bit shakily.

Diarmuid was still recovering from both the kiss and the pain on the mat, taking his time to even out his breathing.

"For the final time, Archer, I am not your property in any way." She narrowed her eyes on him, not even daring to glance over at Diarmuid.

She dusted herself off as Gilgamesh retorted with something quite narcissistic and Diarmuid slowly stood to his feet. She turned to the brunet, "We should try that again sometime soon."

The Knight of Fianna's face turned beet red while she gave him an exhausted wave and hurriedly pushed past the King of Heroes and right out of the gym. He was left speechless and star struck, No doubt he'd love to.

Day 5: Kissing