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You were on a terrible date. Not just terrible. But a boring, incompatible, mentally exhausting date. The man escorting you around town was exactly your type. He was tall, handsome, successful and arrogant. But as the two of you walked downtown, you couldn’t help but wonder why you were so miserable. He was everything you had always looked for in a man. He even smelled rich, so what was the problem?

He continued to talk on his phone as he led you down the street. He was presumably on a business call with some other rich assholes that were most likely just as arrogant. Mr. Wall Street. He led you to a rundown building that looked like it should be condemned. You furrowed your brow at the sight while your date gave you a cocky smile and a simple: trust me. You followed Mr. Wall Street down a flight of stairs that opened up to a large, abandoned warehouse. Inside was one single boxing ring surrounded by hundreds of screaming men. Some men yelled obscenities while some had fists full of cash they were swinging around wildly.

“Why did you bring me here?” You asked with a sneer.

Mr. Wall Street looked you up and down and rolled his eyes. “Come on baby,” his arm already snaking around your waist, “it will be fun. Besides, I always make great money on this guy.”

His finger pointed to a stocky, but chiseled boxer at one end of the ring. Your eyes drank in his entire form, his arms glistening from the bright lights, his forehead dripping with sweat. While his body looked very strong and almost intimidating, his face looked soft and kind. You continued to stare at the boxer as you and Mr. Wall Street took your seats beside the ring. You listened to the MC announce his name as Seo Changbin.

The fight had begun with the first bell ring. You watched the way Changbin moved and landed blows with an almost water-like fluidity. The crowd erupted with every successful hit, a sea of cheering, gasping, and shouting, their energy feeding the intensity of the match. Your heart picked up speed as your eyes followed Changbin’s movements. You had never been to a boxing match before, never even watched one on the television. However, you found yourself captivated with his ebb and flow.

“Didn’t I tell you this guy was great?” Mr. Wall Street slugged his arm around your shoulder and pulled you into him.

Your body reacted immediately, tensing up and already trying to pull away. But instead you nodded your head, fixing your eyes back on the match.

In the final round, both fighters were exhausted. The score was tied and everyone waited with bated breath as the bell echoed through the room. Determination etched on his face, Changbin fought through the main that was coursing through his muscles. The first rule they teach you, before anything else, is to keep your eyes on your opponent. Never break eye contact, even for a second. Because that second could change everything.

Changbin’s fists were like pistons, relentless and powerful. His opponent's moves, however, were calculated. Each punch landed with a resounding thud, sending ripples of pain through their bodies. Sweat flew off their brows with every impact, muscles straining under the pressure. Pressure was all Changbin had been feeling for months. He dodged another hit, this time barely missing his chin. As he turned his head swiftly to the left, his eyes locked with yours. You were luminous. The harsh lights of the arena seemed to give you an angelic glow that singled you out from the rest of the crowd. He had never seen anything so beauti-

Never break eye contact, not even for a second.

Changbin’s opponent saw his opening and pounced with hestistation, landing a devastating hook that sent Changbin to the mat. The crowd exploded in a mixture of cheers and anger. Some men even tried to rush the ring, seeing their money, their bets, fall flat onto the floor of the mat. Changbin laid unconscious for a moment, his coach at his side, shaking and slapping his face. The referee soon entered the ring and lifted the arm of the other fighter. The audience was en emotion mix of joy and sadness, including Mr. Wall Street.

You stood from your seat and tried to see Changbin from the waves of angry men that were now surrounding him. As you attempted to get closer, your date grabbed your hand and pulled you aside and down a hallway.

“What-What are we doing?” You stammered as your date continued to pull you behind him.

“That asshole owes me money! I can’t believe he lost…” Mr. Wall Street was fuming, his grip on your hand growing stronger.

The two of you finally stopped outside of a plain, white door. His fists pounded on the door and demanded to see the fighter, Changbin. Changbin opened the door slowly, holding a small ice pack on his cheek.

“Yeah?” He spoke with a soft exhaustion.

Mr. Wall Street stood fuming. The air was thick with anticipation as the two men faced each other. Changbin hadn’t noticed you standing there, his head still cloudy from the fight. Your date stepped closer and demanded money. He told Changbin that he is not a man who likes to lose. He told him that he was getting that money one way or another. Changbin scoffed and rolled his eyes. This was not the first time an entitled asshole came crying to him when they lost a bet. You slowly stepped in front of your date and apologized.

“Sorry about this, about the fight.” You said in a tender voice. You weren’t really sure what to say, but you felt you had to say something. Changbin’s eyes softened as he recognized your face again. His body instinctively moved towards yours as you spoke. His eyes watched you closely, almost hypnotized by the sound of your voice.

Mr. Wall Street huffed and swiftly grabbed your arm, pulling you back behind him. You let out a sharp gasp as you stumbled backwards. Changbin felt lightning shooting through his fingertips at the sight of you falling back. He didn’t think about his next move, he didn’t have to. His fists clenched as his jaw tightened. With a swift motion, Changbin swung his fist, landing a solid punch on Mr. Wall Street’s jaw. A sharp crack echoed, and he staggered back, pain flashing across his face. He looked at You then back and Changbin before finally shouting “fuck this!”

He was gone in a flash down the hallway while the two of you stood across from each other in complete silence. Changbin shook off his hand, his knuckles tingling slightly from the impact. He looked at you again, “Are you alright?” His voice was a little gruff and irritated.

You didn’t think about your next move, you didn't have to. Your heart raced as you crashed your lips into his. His lips were soft and warm against yours. You felt the gentle pressure as he pulled you closer, his hand resting lightly on your back. A rush of warmth spread through you, a mix of excitement and tenderness. The entire arena seemed to fade away and all you could think about was how right this moment felt. Changbin held you close against him, his arms surrounding you completely. He was so delicate with you, so tender. Changbin moaned softly into the kiss as you leaned further into him. He had never been so happy to lose a fight.