#tw.fighting

"Yo, Matias, my man!" He greets, slapping a hand on Matias's toned shoulder. "Me and some of the 'execs' as we've taken to calling ourselves are gonna hit the club', you in?" Mattias, clicks his tongue, and shakes his head. "Nah man, not tonight. I gotta get home n' see my girl. I was supposed to be home earlier." He glances down at the floor. "Shit, alright man, here's your check. I'll see you later." Mattias nods as the man heads out, stuffing the check into his duffle bag, before sliding out the alley exit.

Matias and you have been dating for a little over a year now. Both of you met in a pretty rough part of town, he was working a day-job at a gas station, and you were a cafe worker. He'd come in occasionally, claiming that the gas station coffee just wasn't up to his standards. He scared you, at first. Mattias has a very tough exterior, tattoos and muscles, but an even tougher interior. He was kind of stoic when you first met, and you couldn't quite get a read on him. He wasn't outwardly flirty or affectionate, which is why it took six weeks of him stopping by the coffee shop for him to pull you aside and ask what he was doing wrong, and why you weren't picking up on his advances. You had explained, and shortly after that you began dating. It was only a month or so into dating when you had learned of his cage-fighting career, but he assured you that he was tough, and no guy was gonna hurt him. You both needed the money on the side, so you reluctantly agree. That's what leads up to where you are now, passed out on your couch, waiting for him to come home.

He heads towards your shared apartment as quickly as he can, taking the subway about 8 blocks east, before running up the fire escape to the flat's balcony. He knows you deadbolted the door any time past 8:00, and doesn't blame you. It's kind of a dangerous neighborhood, and he feels bad enough leaving his girl home alone as much as he does.

"Pobre mami, espero que no me haya esperado." (Poor mami, hope she didn't wait up for me.) He pulls up the window, making sure to slip in quietly, in case you had already gone to sleep. As he places one foot on the floor, the wood barely creaks beneath him, when he hears a soft groan coming from the couch.

"Matty?" You mumble, sitting up from the plush couch and rubbing your eyes, trying to make out his large silhouette. He sighs, tossing his bag to the side as he stretches "Hey, hermosa, did I wake you up?" He asks, looking at you with his usual hooded gaze. "I guess, I don't think I was asleep that long..." You run a hand through your hair. "How'd it go?" He smiles softly, chuckling. "You know me, baby, I don't lose." He sits on the arm of the couch. "Gotchu' five hundred dollars, gonna' get you something real pretty with it." You sigh, and shake your head. "You've got me plenty of gifts, what we should be doing is saving up for somewhere else to live." You explain. He shrugs. "Yeah, you right, you right. That's my bad." He puts his hands up in surrender. "Well, if you aren't gonna let me get you somethin' pretty, you outta lemme' take ya to bed." Before you can react, he scoops you up in his arms, causing you to squeak.

"Don't scare me like that, God!" You smack his chest, but your hand only bounces off his firm pecs. e chuckles. "Gonna' have to hit harder than that, mami." He flicks off the living room light as he carries you to your shared bed. He lays you down, gently this time as opposed to the times he throws you on the bed, usually to pin you down and tickle you, saying things like '¿Qué pasa, bonita? Solo empújame, no es tan difícil...' (What's wrong, Pretty? Just push me off, it's not that hard...). Sometimes though, his manhandling isn't that innocent. As you snuggle down into the bed, Matias strips off his hoodie, and you blush at the way the light coming in through the blinds hits his chest. He lets out a soft groan, as the plush mattress and soft bed sheets soothe his sore body. Matias bites his lips as his eyes trace over your sleepy form, and he rolls over onto his side, tucking an arm around your waist.

"Mmm, no Matias... m' too tired tonight." You whisper, your face scrunching up. Matias was never a very soft guy. Playful and devilish, sure, but soft? No. His hands were calloused from years of bruising skin and bloodying faces, working and scrounging every penny he can get to get a better life for himself. Deep down, he couldn't imagine placing these damaged, dangerous hands on something as soft and sweet as you. He could snap you in half if he desired, and the thought terrifies him.

"What, no baby... I'm not tryna' smash at-" He looks over at the clock. "Shit, 1:00 am already? Jesus Christo..." He turns back to you. "Just wanna hold you, mami." He presses his long torso up against the curve of your back, pressing his face into your curls and inhaling your scent. "You feeling okay?" You ask. He knows he doesn't. He knows he should have been home for you sooner, and it didn't help that he had to make a stop on the way back home.

He feels a sense of dread in his stomach. You won't ever know about the stop he made, you were asleep. Besides, he comes home late all the time. What you will learn about is your bloodied new co-worker being found with his skull smashed in, just a few blocks from the cafe. Due to the graphic scene he left behind, it's sure to be on the morning news. Matias hadn't expected your new friend to be working the late shift, but he was still on an adrenaline high from the fight, and god... he couldn't stand the idea of that bitch getting to spend more time with you than him. He wants to be home for you more, he does, but he can't. Still, that doesn't mean he's going to let any other guy fill that void. Hell no.

"I'm fine, Hermosa. Just sore from the fight, wanna' hold my baby." He whispers, placing a chapped kiss on the shell of your ear, making you flinch. "That tickles..." You giggle. He smiles, and squeezes you gently. "C'mon, stop being silly. Necesitas descansar, especialmente después de quedarte despierto para mí." (You need to sleep, especially after staying up for me.) He scolds. You roll over to face him, and tuck your head into the crook of his neck. "Love you, Matty." You sleepily coo, before drifting off in his arms. He freezes, his breath labored for a minute as he looks down at you. Even now, after dating for so long, he can't process the softness of you juxtaposed with the beatings he both takes and gives every other weeknight. It's a transition he sometimes struggles to handle. He feels a smile creep onto his face, and he curls your small form into him, practically cradling you against his broad chest. God, he'll take on an extra five challengers next time, all for you.

"Gonna get you a penthouse baby, real nice neighborhood too. Somewhere safe, somewhere that makes me feel better about leavin' you all alone..." He whispers, knowing you can't really hear him. "Better not have anyone but me over, no fucker's from work, aight'? I'll kick the shit out of any of em' just for you..."

The rain pours down onto me as I stand waiting. What I'm waiting for, I'm not entirely sure. All I know is that I need to stand here and wait until whatever is supposed to happen happens. I see the blurred figures of both children and teachers leaving the school to go start their afternoon shifts in the factories. Even if I can’t clearly see their faces, I can feel their glares, anger, and hatred hot on my skin. It’s the only thing I can feel at the moment. It’s honestly about the only thing I’ve been able to feel since the games ended. I can’t bring myself to think too deeply about what happened, or I might start drowning in every emotion imaginable, again.

I can’t let that happen. They’ll put me on so many pills I won’t be able to tell which way is up.

So, I continue to stand, waiting in the rain, having only the heat of glares keeping me warm. A bolt of lightning hits the building across the street, followed by a loud crack of thunder. The jolt of fear suddenly clears my mind of the fog that it’s been trapped in, and I realize why I’m here.

Ash

Every day without fail, Ash and I would meet up here after school. Whether we would just talk for a couple of minutes before their shift at the factory or I was walking them home, we always met up here.

All at once, everything that I haven’t been able to feel hits me so hard I almost fall over. Every feeling forms into a single thought.

I’ve got to get out of here now.

I run, fleeing from the courtyard and everything that’s happened there. That courtyard is nothing but a painful reminder that Ash is gone, and there is nothing I can do to bring them back. With the fog lifted from my brain, I can now fully feel the pain of what's happened. My heart aches as if the games happened just yesterday, and it has left my feet unsteady as I continue to run. I have no idea where I'm running to, probably somewhere equally as painful, but as long as I’m moving away from here, I don’t really care.

I shove past several people, barely hearing their angry shouts of protest, and force my way through a set of doors. I have no idea where I am or where to go. I recognize the room, but my mind refuses to focus enough to remember the name. All I can think about is how much my chest aches and how cold my hands are. My skin feels so cold it's like I’ve never felt the Sun.

I force myself to sit down before I collapse onto the floor, trying not to make any more of a scene than I already have. Exhaustion begins to replace whatever panic is left in my body.

I need to stand up. Make my way home before someone tells Father that I’ve had some type of breakdown. Explain to him that this is nothing like that.

But it is exactly like that, isn’t it? I’m not entirely sure what counts as a breakdown, but sprinting through school grounds shoving anyone out of my way in a blind panic probably counts at least as the start of one. The worry of what Father is going to do when he finds out isn’t enough to motivate my body to move again. I’m so exhausted that all I can bring myself to do is sit here and breathe.

I’m not entirely sure how long I’ve been here, but it’s long enough for me to finally realize where I’m at, the community cafeteria. I’m just thankful I didn’t barge my way into some teacher’s classroom, which means the chances of someone noticing me are significantly lower. I still haven’t been able to bring myself to stand, but I have noticed other people moving about and taking seats. These must be late-day shift workers. That means it's almost seven o’clock, and I’m supposed to be at dinner in thirty minutes. This realization finally manages to get my limbs moving again.

I’ve got to get across the city in the middle of a shift change in less than thirty minutes and then pretend that I’ve spent the last three hours in my room instead of out here trying not to lose my mind. This is going to be near impossible

I quickly stand, trying to come up with something to say to my family whenever I get back home.

Maybe I can say I went on a walk or Hope went missing and I went looking for him. Who am I kidding? Mother wouldn’t believe that for a second, and if she did, Calliope wouldn’t, and she’d have no problem with immediately calling me out on the lie.

No matter what I come up with, every excuse is worse than the last. Ultimately, I decided to just get back as fast as I could and wing it from there.

Once again, I begin shoving my way through groups of people not really caring for the looks they throw my way. I’m stopped whenever a hand grabs my collar and pulls, hard. The motion forces me to turn around, and I come face to face with Aurel Weaver. The anger in their eyes does nothing but confuse me.

I hardly know Aurel. I can’t even remember the last time I spoke to them. What could I have possibly done to make them so angry?

For a minute, we both just stare at each other, waiting for the other to speak. I take the moment to properly look at them. After the games ended, shifts at the factories began to ramp up, and Aurel ended up dropping out of school to keep up with the work they were assigned. I haven’t really seen them since then, but I can tell the work is taking a toll on them, changing them. They look about as exhausted as I feel. Their skin pale, and the bags under their eyes are worse than I've ever seen them before. But the biggest change I can see is in their eyes; beautiful hazel eyes drowning in nothing but fury and hatred, and it's all directed at me. A sharp pang runs through my chest. I may not have been best friends with Aurel, but I still considered them at the very least a friendly acquaintance. I force myself to ignore the hurt and very suddenly realize that I’ve been staring for too long and I can't afford to waste what little time I have to get home. “Sorry Aurel, I didn’t mean to run into you,” I say quickly, going to turn to leave.

I take a step away until I, once again, feel a hand grab me. Only this time, the hand is wrapped around both my collar and the chain hanging around my neck. They’re saying something to me, but all I can focus on is the chain in their hand and the fact that if they pull it’ll snap. I take a breath slightly, turning my head, forcing myself to listen to what they’re saying.

“It’s rude to not answer my questions, you know?” Aurel growls, and I can feel them getting ready to yank me back. Instead of responding, I try to move out of their grip. At the same time, they decide to pull, and I feel the chain snap.

The pendant slides down my shirt, and I watch it fall to the ground. The last precious gift that I will ever get from Ash now lays on the ground broken like it was nothing. I barely feel Aurel's presence anymore. All I can stare at is the pieces.

They grab my shoulder, tired of me apparently ignoring them, and force me to look at them. Suddenly, the nothingness I felt while looking at the broken pendant is replaced with an all-consuming rage at the sight of them standing, acting like I owe them any type of response. I glance around and notice a glass cup sitting on the table next to us.

Without a second of delay, I grab it and smash it against the side of their head. Before they manage to recover any semblance of balance, I lunge at them and knock them to the ground. One. Two. Three. I get three punches in before they get me off them. They pin me down with one hand around my throat and use the other to try and hold my hands down. I can feel their right hand around my throat, squeezing hard while I kick and scratch at them. As my vision starts to fill with black spots, I freeze and begin to realize that Aurel might just be trying to kill me.

I’m going to die on the dirty floor of the community cafeteria, and it’s nobody’s fault but mine. Broken and nothing on the ground, just like the necklace lying next to me.

I feel Aurel's grip on me loosens, and I know this is my chance to get them off me. I kick them in the side and manage to get out from under them. I throw a punch to the side of their head that knocks them into a leg of the table, hard. Disoriented and off balance, Aurel doesn’t even notice that I’m in front of them until I pin them down and begin to hit them over and over. I lose track of how many times I hit them; all I know is that they’re not fighting back anymore. I don’t stop. I can’t stop. Every emotion I’ve been trying not to feel comes out in every swing. I know I’m crying, but I can’t bring myself to care. I should be ashamed for doing this for letting my anger take control, but I’m not.

There’s a crowd around us now. I can’t hear them, but I can see them; with the show me and Aurel have been putting on, it was bound to catch some attention. If there’s a crowd, then that means there must be peacekeepers on the way. I don’t care. They can drag me away and lock me up forever, and I won’t care. I feel hands trying to pull me off Aurel, but I don’t let them.

They hurt me. Why shouldn’t I hurt them? I want to hurt them. I want to hurt all of them. Everyone in the districts and Capitol. I want to hurt them all.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice white uniforms surrounding me, and they begin grabbing me. They’re a lot better at getting me off Aurel than whoever was trying before. As I’m being pulled away, I notice the pendant still lying on the ground, a forget-me-not shattered into pieces.

Ash would hate me right now.

Bokuto + First Kiss

— Bokuto’s first kiss was an accident, so he sometimes doesn’t count it. He and Kuroo were big on showing affection in their friendship, including big hugs that had Bokuto lifting Kuroo off the ground. The two of them were so excited for their first official trip to Nationals that they went in for a big hug while cheering. Bokuto and Kuroo didn’t bring any attention to the moment their lips touched but Kuroo will sometimes bring it up as a joke Bokuto will never live down.

First kiss with you

— Bokuto’s first kiss with you was sweet and awkward, a bit sloppy as well. He hasn’t properly kissed anyone and he didn’t want to mess it up. You had to initiate the kiss because he was so worried, but it was obvious he was thinking about it. Leaving you after a date, he was hesitant to go and kept starting small conversations. When you finally pressed your lips against his, he wasn’t ready to let you go then either. He pushed back a bit too hard on the kiss, making you almost fall and break the kiss. His apologies were cut short when you pressed your lips against him once more.

Bokuto + First Date

— Bokuto’s dated in his past, going on plenty of dates before you came into his life. He wouldn’t say any of them were memorable, except his first ever date. He went on a date with one of the cheerleaders his first year at Fukurōdani, high on adrenaline from a win when she asked. The date itself was boring, going to an ice cream shop and walking around the park on a Saturday afternoon. However, Bokuto remembers it because of the ice cream shop. He’s loved ice cream as a kid and the shop had every flavor ranging from classic vanilla to cotton candy to root beer. Now, it’s a staple first date to see what the other person gets.

First date with you

— Ice cream shop. He already really liked you and he knew that he wanted to stay with you for a long while. The ice cream shop is his go-to for a first date and it lets him know if his date is willing to be adventurous. Sure, they can get vanilla, but he’s paying for the ice cream so why not try something new? When you were excited to get ice cream despite the air getting chillier, he didn’t think he’d have to worry. And when you saw the options and immediately chose a root beer and coca-cola ice cream cone “just to see what it tastes like” and shared it with him, he knew he’d be keeping you for as long as he could.

Bokuto + First Argument

— Bokuto’s the kind of guy who doesn’t get into arguments easily. He’s a sweet guy who doesn’t want to have pointless fights, especially with the ones he loves. He didn’t get into an argument, a real argument, until you were around. You were usually understandable about his passion for volleyball and what he needed to do to keep up his figure, but eventually it became too much. Moving into an apartment and working to stay together, it got hard on you when you only saw Bokuto in the mornings and at night. If he wasn’t running or at the gym, he was in class or volunteering at the community volleyball match. It got to the point you felt as though he was running from you. A bad day came and you told him your feelings in explosion and he came back at you with anger in return. You guys didn’t talk for a week, but that week told you he was there more than you thought and it told him that you were always supporting him even if he didn’t recognize it. No other argument could be as bad as that and Bokuto hopes it stays that way.

Bokuto + First Time

— Bokuto never really took off in a relationship because he always had volleyball. Until you came around, he didn’t think too much of the person he was dating. When he did finally get serious in the relationship, he found the other person wasn’t what he was looking for which led to a breakup. You were so much more different. Even if he wasn’t obsessed with dates and making out or even having sex, you never brought it up. So when he finally was ready, it was after Nationals his final year. He was still hyped on adrenaline from the matches and the atmosphere and after not seeing you for so long. It may have only been a week and a half, but he had been practicing and unable to see you as much. Finding you’re awake in the middle of the night when he’s finally back, the only thing he wants to do is hold you in his arms. When he finally does, he finds himself wanting more, wanting to indulge in your body like he hasn’t before. It’s as awkward as his first kiss with you, not knowing where to put his hands or where he can kiss you, but you’re able to guide him where it feels good for you. He doesn’t worry about having you figure out his body at that point, he just wants to love you in order to make up for his lack of presence.

Bokuto + First “I love you”

— This is a special sentence he hasn’t spoken to anyone except you with the context. He doesn’t care if he’s not the first you’ve loved, but he cares that you’re the first he’s loved. It doesn’t come before you two first make love, but rather after. In the bliss afterwards, he ends up sleeping at your house. It’s a wonderful Sunday morning and not only were your parents out of the house on a business trip for the weekend, but you woke him up with breakfast in bed. Knowing how hard he worked and how he was so apologetic about being wrapped up in practice, you decided to do something nice for him. Even though a part of him wished your legs were a bit more unstable, he found himself focusing on how good the omurice and pancakes you made were. A big breakfast that was made of love. When he finally finished the food, he gave you a kiss with those three little words as you took the tray away. He was a blushing and stuttering mess, as if he hadn’t literally seen you naked the night before, trying to backtrack. But you just smiled and told him you loved him too, kissing him again before leaving. He stayed at your house until your parents got back, curled up in your bed next to you as he played those words over and over in his head.