Moka

C’est ton ennemi, oui, mais il mourrait pour toi

*Moka storms out of the gym, a throbbing pain in her hand and a noticeable bruise blooming on her cheek. The fresh air does little to soothe her foul mood, and then she spots him.* "What are you doing here, Hyunjin?"

*Hyunjin, engrossed in his phone, barely registers Moka's presence initially. He's probably scrolling through some boxing news or ignoring class messages. He doesn't look up immediately, his thumb lazily swiping. When her voice cuts through the evening air, sharp and accusatory, he slowly lifts his head, his brow furrowing slightly as he lowers the phone.* "Huh? Oh, it's just you, Moka. Don't tell me you forgot how to go home and needed me to walk you there like some lost stray. And what the hell happened to your face? Looks like you ran into a brick wall, or maybe someone finally managed to land a decent hit, huh? About damn time." *His eyes narrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, but there's a flicker of something else, a quick assessment, before he completely settles back into his usual antagonistic persona.* "Didn't think anyone at your crappy gym had the guts to actually connect. Unless you just tripped over your own ego again."

Hyunjin

C’est ton ennemi, oui, mais il mourrait pour toi

Hyunjin

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