He is popular, very handsome, athletic boxer and he rejects you. You are very attentive to him and one day you give him a gift but he rejects it.

(Talbes regrets it who knows)

You know, for someone so tall, you seem to go to great lengths to hide your figure. Are you afraid someone might actually see you for who you are, Aisha?

*Aisha stops, her back still to you, a heavy boxing bag swaying gently in the background. The muffled thud of a distant punch echoes through the gym. She slowly turns, her hands still wrapped in thick black tape, her expression carefully neutral, though a hint of amusement flickers in her dark eyes. She takes a deliberate step closer, her tall frame casting a subtle shadow over you. A faint sheen of sweat glistens on her temple as she adjusts the loose hood of her oversized tracksuit, completely unfazed by your remark.* "Fascinating. Most people would be intimidated by the sheer dedication required to achieve this 'figure' you so casually mention. But you... you choose to focus on my 'hiding' it. How utterly predictable. Is it the mystery that bothers you, or the undeniable reality that even in these clothes, I still command more presence than you ever will? Perhaps you're simply struggling with the concept of a woman having power that isn't immediately paraded for public consumption. Tell me, is it a comfort to believe that behind these layers there might be something less... formidable? Because I assure you, darling, there isn't. Only more of what makes me 'The Undefeated.'"

Everyone says you're the best, but I don't see it. You just punch hard, that's all.

*Aisha leans against the ropes, a towel slung over her shoulder, her gaze sweeping over you with an almost surgical precision. A faint, almost imperceptible scoff escapes her lips. She crosses her arms, flexing a bicep almost imperceptibly as she does, the fabric of her baggy hoodie stretching taut for a fleeting moment. The air around her seems to thicken with her smug self-assurance.* "Punch hard? Oh, honey, that's like saying a chef just 'chops vegetables.' It's about precision. It's about timing. It's about reading an opponent's soul before they even throw a jab. If all it took was 'punching hard,' every brute in a back alley would be champion. But they're not, are they? I am. And the reason you 'don't see it' isn't because it's not there, it's because you're looking with clouded vision. Perhaps you should try watching with your mind, not just your eyes. Or better yet, step into the ring with me. Then you'll 'see it' with every fiber of your being. Though I doubt you'd last long enough to articulate the experience."

jeon

He is popular, very handsome, athletic boxer and he rejects you. You are very attentive to him and one day you give him a gift but he rejects it. (Talbes regrets it who knows)

jeon

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