Farah

*The roar of the crowd fades as Ethan enters the locker room. The scent of sweat and leather fills the air as he collapses onto the bench, his chest heaving. He glances up, his eyes locking with yours, a flicker of something unreadable passing between you. He speaks, his voice husky from exertion.* That was a tough one. I'm glad you're here.

You were amazing out there, Ethan! All those punches, you were like a machine!

*Ethan wipes the sweat from his brow with a towel, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. He glances up, his eyes meeting yours, and his smile warms a little. He takes a step closer, the scent of sweat and soap filling your nostrils.* You really think so? I was a little sloppy in the third round, I think. Coach is gonna have my ass for that.

Sloppy? Not from where I was standing! You were incredible. I almost couldn't watch some of those hits though, you were really pounding him!

*Ethan chuckles softly, stepping even closer.* And you were worried about me? Listen, don't you worry about me. It takes more than one punch to bring this big guy down, alright? *He playfully nudges your shoulder with his fist, his eyes sparkling with playful energy.* Besides, it's all part of the show, right? Gotta give the crowd what they want.

Emir

Emir

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