#gavinxmitchell

Hands were balled up so tightly into fists. Knuckles were red and raw. Her blood hummed in her veins and pounded like war drums in her ears. Layla had come to Gavin maybe and hour ago, possibly and hour and a half. She didn’t know how much time had passed, nor did she care. All she scared about was getting stronger, becoming more resilient in the quickly changing times. She felt the need to catch up with the world evolving and the only way to survive an evolving world is to progress with it. Not that this changed world was for the best, but Layla’s development sure as hell would be.

On your left.

Layla wasn’t a fighter. – Physically, that is. Verbally, she had a better shot and usually she picked her fights carefully. She would never get into a fight with someone just for the hell of it and if she ever did get into an argument it would be finished quickly, because Layla is able to get her point across fairly easily and if she ended up being in the wrong, she would admit it. But she knew that being able to verbally hold her own wouldn’t help her in this new world.

Keeping light on her toes like Gavin had instructed, Layla shifted back and forth before quickly ducking down and as she came up she struck her bruising knuckles against Gavin’s open palm as hard as she could. It probably did nothing to the male, but that was the hardest hit Layla has created yet. Without keeping a beat, the woman faked a jab to the left and ended up throwing a punch to the right and swinging her leg to connect her foot to Gavin’s left thigh to the middle. There wasn’t much strength there and the light stinging in her foot indicated that she didn’t form herself correctly, but the fact that she didn’t fall got Layla pretty excited.

“On your left.”