After the warm-up, Leo headed back to the small apartment she rented a few days ago. It's hard to live in the big city, but using the money she earned from winning the tournament, she was able to make her dream into a reality.
She sat down, perspiration dripping from her forehead. As she wiped her face with a towel, she tried to remember the last time she felt at ease. The whole tournament was a nerve-wrecker; she was able to get through using only her faith and skills. She thought of her master who religiously taught her all about the martial art. She also thought about her mother, a kind soul who persevered to mold Leo into a fine individual. She bowed her head and prayed.
She had just finished her shower when she heard a noise downstairs. Wearing only a bathrobe, she ran and fumbled for the light switch. What she saw didn't make much sense to her.
Dragunov was sitting on the sofa. He stared at her intently when she entered the room. Leo felt her cheeks go hot when she met his gaze. Instinctively, she grabbed her bathrobe. His gaze made her feel naked; clutching the bathrobe was all she could do to confirm she wasn't.
"What are you doing here?" The sound of her voice shocked her. Her voice sounded soft and weak. She felt herself blush again.
Dragunov averted his eyes. He could sense that she was uneasy, and he was sure it's because of him. Her hair was wet and dripping, and her hand was tightly clutching the bathrobe wrapped around her frail body. Frail. It was only in the middle of the tournament that he realized she was a girl. Her fighting style and clothing weren't the ones that gave her away; it was her eyes.
He recalled the first moment he had set his eyes upon hers. She looked frightened and lost. He was startled to see such an expression; the people in the tournament were mostly cold-blooded killers whose eyes were set on the price. She was different. However, as soon as her fingers touched the anchor pendant on her chest, her eyes became cold. Her face hardened and her muscles grew tense. After that, he lost sight of her.
He saw her again on the ring. She was wearing the same expression that he saw before: lonely and afraid. Before the bell rang, she bowed her head in prayer. The person that emerged was the one that defeated him, and the one who claimed the title of victor.
He forced his eyes to meet those of her own. Before he went here, he already had in mind the things he wanted to stay. Standing before her, the words had vanished into thin air.
Her mouth moved. Instantly, his thoughts were jerked back at the back of his mind. He didn't hear her, and she was looking at him directly like she was waiting for a response. The only word he could utter was "Pardon?"
"Would you like some tea?"
When he nodded, Leo immediately went upstairs to change. Her agility hasn't waned a bit, and in an instant she was on her feet in the kitchen, mixing a fragrant concoction of chamomile tea and sugar cubes. He watched her as she moved, her hand gracefully pouring tea from a pot. He sat and hummed as he waited, never did once averting his gaze.
She placed the tea on the table and sat beside him. His humming immediately stopped, followed by a quick movement of his left hand. Before Leo could stop him, Dragunov already had his hand on her hair.
She felt a small caress. His hand brushed gently on her ear. When she leaned towards him, he was taken aback. Quickly, he pulled his hand away. Leo watched him as he fumbled for something to say.
"There was a leaf."
But there was no leaf. Leo smiled and inched closer to Dragunov, whose expressionless face grew a little pink. She handed him a cup, which he took slowly. He sipped the tea and the flavor of chamomile bloomed in his mouth.
He watched her sip the tea out of her own cup, her lips gingerly touching the edge of the hardened clay. He imitated her, and as the tea touched his lips, he imagined himself kissing the girl who stole his heart.