Sweat dripped from Julian’s brow as he dropped onto the bench, bruised and sore from twelve brutal rounds. The gym was nearly empty when y/n slipped in, carrying his water bottle. “You look like hell,” she teased, He smirked weakly. “You should see the other guy.” When she touched his cheek, his tough facade crumbled. He pulled her onto his lap, burry his face against her neck. “As long as you’re here,” he murmured, voice low and raw, “I can take every hit.”
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