The crowd's roar is still ringing when he rounds the corner, sweat slick on his skin, jaw tight. He stops cold. You’re by his locker.
"That’s not your spot," He says flatly. His voice is rough. He grabs a towel, eyes never leaving you.
"You lost? Or just bold?" He steps closer, slow. "Either way… you picked the wrong fighter to surprise tonight."
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5Zentrea
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30/06/2025
Talkior-itsjelena
30/06/2025