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Prepare for a Landing

Prepare for a Rising


Prepare for a Standing

Space stood in the center of hard stares. Rigid frowns scratched soft faces of pale white. One pair of light blue eyes created an ocean of hesitation, letting free a waterfall of objection down plump cheeks. Blonde pigtails blew with the wind along with the flow of a blue dress. Green grass held hints of highlighted indentations of earlier impact from their bodies. Although he held a powerful strength, she harbored a mighty fury. It scratched at her stomach, trying to break its way on its own, and attack the man who stood without a flinch of fear.

His calm stance illustrated no signs of intimidation at his current opponent. Small cuts, small bruises, and small marks that lay upon his skin almost mocked her power. They both knew what the other's potential could bring about, yet no cuts, marks, or bruises showed any sign of harsh brawling. No, it was as if they merely tapped each other's shoulders and called it a fight.

They both pushed themselves forward to cause a gasp of rough wind to tangle the branches of the trees surrounding them. His attack hit first, marking her skin with a punch to the nose. Her head fell back along with the force pushing back her body until she collided with a tree. Blood fell down slowly from her nostril. She shook with an attempt to straighten her trembling knees. With a swift lift of her knee, she buried it deep into his side as he grunted. He gridded his teeth together, taking hold of her thigh in order to swing her around and leave gravity to pull her back through the air once again. Her body dug deep into the soil of the earth, leaving a trail of visible soil leading to her weak body.

"Your crying won't get you anywhere in the fight,"

Her cough separated her words, "Crying.. Only proves.. How much stronger I am than you are,"

"Then get up, weak girl," his patience lessened as he watched her figure struggle to do what he asked. The skin on his nose wrinkled in wickedness. He flew straight for her, landing above her, reaching out to hold her down by her neck. He spat in her face, "You might as well let me bury you here!"

She suckled on her cheeks, throwing her saliva onto his face. Her voice became imprisoned under his grip. Her nails began to dig into his arm, sprouting more than just a dent. His arm began to bleed as the pressure on his skin grew. The pain overtook his hold, and he unwillingly let go. She coughed, but her weak state hadn't stopped her from placing him under her stare. She climbed on top of him, punching him once, then gradually lowering her head and her fists. Her punches became soft, and her head heavier. Her waterfall of tears discovered a land to sink into. His filthy shirt soaked up her tears.

He breathed heavily, chuckling. His laughter deepened into the pits of his throat, giving his laughter a maniacal tone. His lips brushed the top of her head, "Against me," he smiled, "You'll always lose,"

"Boomer," she managed, "You're the one who has lost this fight,"

His laughter sank as deep as it could, silencing itself as it reached the bottom.

"Never once have I've been this close to you,"


Thank-you for reading! This story is inspired by, "Skinny Love" by Birdy.