raising hope | s.m

♡Three♡

Shawn

I walk into the gym and see my older brother, Noah, and my trainer, Mason standing there with their arms crossed.

"Where have you been, bro?" my brother asks. Rolling my eyes, I walk to the back of the gym and take off the gray shirt I wore to the bar. They walk into the room as I toss the shirt in my bag. 

"Shawn," Mason says sternly. As I'm wrapping my hands I turn and look at them.

"I went to Sonny's Chance," I admit. Noah scoffs. Mason follows me as I walk into the ring. He stands behind the red leather punching bag and holds it. 

"Why the hell would you go to that dump?" Noah asks disgust fills his voice.

"Is it a problem that I wanted some time to myself?" I ask, glancing at him as my fist connects with the bag. The chain attaching the bag to the ceiling rattles from the force.

"No, but did you have to go to such a dump?" My fist hits the bag again.

"Fine. You want to know the truth. I met someone." My attention moves from the bag to him and I walk over.

"Who?" he questions.

"Why the hell does it matter?" The bitterness in my voice makes me want to take it back.

"Because you have a match this weekend and I need to know who's distracting you from practicing. I'm not having a repeat of last time." His brown eyes narrow at the memory. We look alike, the same skin tone, face shape, hair color. But, he's bigger than me due to him being two years older than me.

"You won't."

"How the hell do I know this person isn't tricking you?"

"Because she's not!" I shout. A smirk plays on his lips. My fingers rake through my hair out of aggravation. "What is so damn amusing, Noah?"

"You said 'she'. You're seeing a girl," he teases. For the second time tonight, I roll my eyes.

"Your point?" I ask, throwing my arms up. 

"His point is you need to stop seeing her," Mason comments for the first time. My head snaps in his direction. His arms are crossed over his broad chest and his blue eyes are narrowed at me. His skin is darker than Noah and I's and he's about as big as him. He has a strongly defined jawline and piercing green eyes.

"Excuse me?" I scoff. My feet carry me over to him and I get close. "The hell I'm going to stop seeing her."

"People are going to use her against you if you get too close to her," he growls.

"What makes you so sure of that?" My jaw is clenched as I speak.

"Because it's happened to one of the fighters before."

"Who's to say I'm even going to get close to this girl? I mean, I just met her a few days ago."

"How much have you spoken to her?" he asks. His eyes narrow from anger. 

"As much as I've wanted."

"Well, it needs to stop. I'm making it a rule that you can't see her anymore."

"And if I break that rule?" I challenge. He steps closer to me, accepting the challenge.

"I'm not going to be responsible for the damage." No more words are exchanged for the rest of practice. It's just me taking my anger out on the punching bag in the way of my real target.

♡♡♡

My feet trudge up the metal steps of the apartment building. As I stand outside my apartment door, I look to my right and see Maya kissing a baby girls cheek and smiling through the window. The baby smiles as Maya's lips kiss her cheek several times. I smile softly and debate whether or not to stop by. Deciding against it, I shove the key into the lock and open the door. 

Closing the door behind me, I think about her. Her tanned skin and soft hands. Her upturned, piercing green eyes, high cheekbones, and full bow-shaped lips. The way dimples formed when she smiled and how her eyes lit up when she mentioned her daughter.

Stop thinking about her, I scold myself. My fingers wind themselves in the strands and pull, trying to pull her out of my head. She stays stuck inside my head like an overplayed, catchy song I can't get out. Her laugh echoes in my head. 

To solve this problem, I hit the table next to the door praying the pain will distract me. It doesn't.

♡♡♡

Maya

Hope laughs as I scrunch my fingers against her stomach. Her laugh makes me smile at how happy she is with how little I give her. 

"I'm trying to do better, Hope," I whisper, kissing her forehead. Sitting on the couch, I place Hope in my lap and she stands on her legs with some help. Her small hands are wrapped around my index finger and she smiles toothlessly. Mickey Mouse plays in the background grabbing her attention. She plops down onto my lap and claps at the mouse on TV. 

For some reason, a thought of Shawn drifts into my head. I smile to myself and kiss Hopes head. An image of him smiling pops into my head and I'm not sure why, but I don't want it to leave.