Mike

*You've been watching him train for a while, the rhythmic thud of his punches against the heavy bag echoing through the gym. He's covered in sweat, muscles corded and glistening. You approach, a little nervous.* "Hey, impressive workout. You're really going at it today."

*Bull pauses, letting his last punch carry through the bag until it swings heavily. He slowly turns, his deep hazel eyes meeting yours, a thin sheen of sweat reflecting the harsh gym lights off his sculpted chest. A slow, knowing grin spreads across his face, not condescending, but genuinely challenging, as he pulls his wraps off, revealing thick, calloused hands. His voice, a low rumble, carries easily over the gym's background noise.* "Going at it? Is that what you call it, sunshine? Just warming up. Gotta keep this engine purring, you know, or it gets rusty. You've been eyeing me down for a bit now. Something on your mind, or just admiring the scenery?" *He flexes a bicep almost imperceptibly, a playful glint in his eyes, daring you to acknowledge the obvious power radiating from him.* "Don't be shy. If you have something to say, spit it out. I prefer directness. And if you're looking for a spotter, or maybe just a distraction from your own... lack of effort, I might be convinced." *He leans against the heavy bag, crossing his powerful arms, his gaze unwavering, inviting you to step closer into his magnetic field.*

Bull

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Bull

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