I throw a punch, hitting the padding hard but it doesn't seem to do as much damage as intended. Thom laughs.
"Don't laugh." I growl, throwing another punch.
He barely flinches, continuing to hold up his hands. The shiny red leather of the pads shimmers as I throw another, frustrated punch.
You're doing it all wrong!" He shakes his head firmly. "You've go to put your whole weight into the punch, don't jerk yourself too hard, but twist."
"I am freakin' twisting!" I all but snarl the words.
He shakes his head, amusement evident in his eyes as he pulls the pads off his hands and holds them out to me. With a sound of annoyance, I take them and slip them on.
"Watch." He orders.
And I do, holding the pads up to him so that he can swing a punch. I try to look closely, watching the way his lithe body twists and turns, moving into the punch. He doesn't hit the pads hard, but I can feel the shock of the motion reverberating through my wrists and arms.
He punches several more times and despite how hard I look, nothing he's doing seems different from what I'm doing!
He pulls the pads off my hands suddenly and places them over his own hands, holding them up to me once more.
Taking a long, deep breath, I pull my right leg backwards slightly, taking up an offensive stance, bod terse. I pull my fist back, eyes solely focused on the left pad – before throwing my weight into the punch, smacking it solidly.
He grins. "Better, much better – but it could still use a lot of work."
I let out another growl of frustration, shoulders slumping as I drop my arms heavily.
"I won't ever get this right."
"Come now, no negative attitude, alright?" He uses his knees this time to remove the pads, dropping them solidly to the floor.
"I can't help it." I shrug.
"I'll show you," he replies simply.
He moves towards me and within a second, he stands behind me.
"What…?" I trail off, unable to help the confusion as I attempt to turn to follow him.
He stops me easily by placing both hands carefully on my waist. I try to ignore the way my pulse jumps at the warmth of his touch.
Whilst his left hand remains on my waist, he reaches around and grabs my right wrist. His breath against the nape of my neck is almost enough to make me feel weak.
"Now, just pull back like this, but make sure that you pull your entire body round, twist it so that when you move forward…" He murmurs the words softly as he throws his hand forward, still wrapped around my hand.
I move into the punch, trying to feel it, rather than him.
"See? You can do it? Just twist…"He pulls my hand backward, ceasing my arm to move closer to my body – making it so that my body is impossibly closer to his, before throwing a punch once more.
"Okay, I think I got it." I reply weakly, pulling away from him to retrieve the pads to hand to him.
His eyes against mine are intense as he raises an eyebrow, taking the pads and slipping them on. "Go for it."
This time, I twist my entirely body, pulling my body inwards before shooting forward – not aiming to hit the pad hard, just to hit it with the right amount of force and precision.
"Better," he grins.
I throw a punch, hitting the padding hard but it doesn't seem to do as much damage as intended. Seth laughs.
"Don't laugh." I growl, throwing another punch.
He barely flinches, continuing to hold up his hands. The shiny red leather of the pads shimmers as I throw another, frustrated punch.
You're doing it all wrong!" He shakes his head firmly. "You've go to put your whole weight into the punch, don't jerk yourself too hard, but twist."
"I am freakin' twisting!" I all but snarl the words.
He shakes his head, amusement evident in his eyes as he pulls the pads off his hands and holds them out to me. With a sound of annoyance, I take them and slip them on.
"Watch." He orders.
And I do, holding the pads up to him so that he can swing a punch. I try to look closely, watching the way his lithe body twists and turns, moving into the punch. He doesn't hit the pads hard, but I can feel the shock of the motion reverberating through my wrists and arms.
He punches several more times and despite how hard I look, nothing he's doing seems different from what I'm doing!
He pulls the pads off my hands suddenly and places them over his own hands, holding them up to me once more.
Taking a long, deep breath, I pull my right leg backwards slightly, taking up an offensive stance, bod terse. I pull my fist back, eyes solely focused on the left pad – before throwing my weight into the punch, smacking it solidly.
He grins. "Better, much better – but it could still use a lot of work."
I let out another growl of frustration, shoulders slumping as I drop my arms heavily.
"I won't ever get this right."
"Come now, no negative attitude, alright?" He uses his knees this time to remove the pads, dropping them solidly to the floor.
"I can't help it." I shrug.
"I'll show you," he replies simply.
He moves towards me and within a second, he stands behind me.
"What…?" I trail off, unable to help the confusion as I attempt to turn to follow him.
He stops me easily by placing both hands carefully on my waist. I try to ignore the way my pulse jumps at the warmth of his touch.
Whilst his left hand remains on my waist, he reaches around and grabs my right wrist. His breath against the nape of my neck is almost enough to make me feel weak.
"Now, just pull back like this, but make sure that you pull your entire body round, twist it so that when you move forward…" He murmurs the words softly as he throws his hand forward, still wrapped around my hand.
I move into the punch, trying to feel it, rather than him.
"See? You can do it? Just twist…"He pulls my hand backward, ceasing my arm to move closer to my body – making it so that my body is impossibly closer to his, before throwing a punch once more.
"Okay, I think I got it." I reply weakly, pulling away from him to retrieve the pads to hand to him.
His eyes against mine are intense as he raises an eyebrow, taking the pads and slipping them on. "Go for it."
This time, I twist my entirely body, pulling my body inwards before shooting forward – not aiming to hit the pad hard, just to hit it with the right amount of force and precision.
"Better," he grins.
