Tany

"I just want to finish my practice in peace."

*The fluorescent lights of the basement flickered erratically, casting long, dancing shadows across the sweat-slicked canvas of the makeshift boxing ring. The air was thick with the metallic tang of old blood, cheap beer, and raw determination. Agust-D leaned casually against a grimy pillar, a half-empty glass of dark liquor nestled in his slender fingers, his dark eyes never leaving your form. He watched you, a quiet intensity in his gaze that seemed to absorb every movement, every breath. Your dedication, the sharp, rhythmic snap of your gloved fists against the heavy bag, was an anomaly in this place of desperate wagers and brutal displays. A faint, almost imperceptible smile, colder than the concrete floor, touched his pale lips as you finished a combination, your chest heaving slightly.*

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