Fiery Storms [ON HIATUS]

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a/n: out of curiosity to whoever reads it this far, what's the first thing you find attractive in a man/woman?

anyways, enjoy :))

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          "Does it still upset you that Nicholas would be training me?"

          "No. Not if you promise to kick his arse or rather stain the grass red with his blood," I can hear the smile in his voice.

          "I'm serious," I look up at him, "I won't train with him if you really oppose to it."

          "Really?" 

His eyes lit up like a kid who had a ton of presents on the eve of Christmas.

          "Of course not."

He showed his signature scowl that would probably be there for the whole day. Grudges, he's best at that. I ruffled through my bag looking for a pair of loose cotton pants and a shirt to pair with the boots Dean gave me, which actually fitted me.

Nicholas was waiting for me outside the tent, with two thoroughbreds in tow. No saddle nor reins. They were casually following Nicholas. What the hell.

          "Hey gorgeous," Nicholas winked when I stopped three feet away from him, still admiring the horses. Next thing you know, he was doubling over in a coughing fit.

          "That's my wife you're hitting on, Nicholas," Dean said, clearly enjoying the pain Nicholas was feeling.

          "Bloody hell, General! I was talking to the horses!" He wheezed.

          "Lame excuse, Nicholas." He then looked at me, "I'm starting to regret leaving you two."

          "Excuse you," I hooked my right arm over Nicholas shoulder, "Nicholas and I will be now leaving now."

Dean's eyes were burning on the arm I had on poor Nicholas. To add gasoline to the fire, Nicholas wrapped his arm around my waist as we slowly took a few steps back and sprinted to the horses, quickly saddling it and lightly kicking its flank to let it on a full sprint when Dean advanced towards us.

          "Nicholas! You are dead!" He roared.

Our laughter resonated at the field with a few men who probably saw our antics, a smile on their faces. When we arrived, I slid down the horse and gave it an apple I grabbed from a tree nearby.

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          "Before you start, I'd like you to get your adrenaline flowing first—warm your body up."

He told me to do a round of jogging then another for sprinting from the end of the open field to the other. I was a sweaty mess. My left side was hurting. Nicholas seemed to laugh at my state, but then told me to get on the mats.

          "Now, feet shoulder width apart and raise both your fists to your cheeks." He corrected my stance before doing the same beside me.

The sun was up in the sky and the clothes stuck to me like a second skin, drenched. I felt sticky and unhygienic. After all the techniques and styles he has showed me, my arms were like of a jellyfish's tentacles.

          "Stand up, Kath. Now try to put what you learned to application."

I shook my head. Dead beat. I am not fit for this, I'd rather eat sweets.

          "Get up, Kath. You weak as they say you are?"

I snarled in frustration and attacked with a right overhand punch. Nicholas seemed to anticipate it because he stepped out of range. He seemed to laugh as my knuckles, by pure luck, connected with his face. He recuperated quickly and did a weave when I did a jab. He immediately threw a low cross to my torso. I staggered away like a drunkard. For a moment, I felt like puking, but I managed to straighten up.