“Why won’t you talk to me?” I pant.
“There’s nothing to say.”
“Bullshit.”
His next blow is harder, glancing off the back of my arm as I misstep and lean into the punch by accident.
“Watch yourself,” he barks. “Again.”
The same blow. This time I block it, but he throws another punch directly at my face. I narrowly avoid it by ducking, and his knuckles brush my shoulder.
“Too slow. Again.”
“Falco—”
“Again!”
He comes at me again, faster and harder than before. My heart pounds in my ears, sweat pours from my overheated body, and the base of my sport top cuts into my ribs from how fast I’m having to move.
Another punch, I block. He swings. I duck. He lunges. I sidestep.
Faster and faster I have to move until I’m panting openly, gasping for air with my hair sticking to my face. His fist flies toward my stomach and I narrowly dodge.
“Falco, stop?—”
He doesn’t. He swings again and catches me on my ribs. Pain blooms and I gasp.
“Falco—”
He lunges again, and this time reflex takes over. Rather than dodging, I press my fist against my chest and swing my elbow out as hard as I can until bone makes contact with flesh. My elbow slams into Falco’s face with such force that he stumbles back, trips, and lands flat on his back on the mat.
“I said stop!” I yell down at him, panting heavily while staring down at him. Anger attempts to ignite in my heart with a pulse of frustration, but I end up collapsing down onto the mat next to him. “Fucking hell.”
The blow thankfully seems to knock sense into Falco because we spend a few seconds lying on the mat together, panting. When he sits up, he rubs his jaw hard. “I’m sorry.”
“You should be.”
“I wanted to push you.”
“Yeah, I got that, but you didn’t say anything.”
“I wanted you to react.”
“Wasn’t I good enough?” Each word is a gasp while I regain my breath.
“If someone comes for you and I’m not there, they won’t stop because you ask them to,” Falco says, his voice tight. “You need to fight.”
It clicks in my mind.
He wasn’t there for Pidge, so he’s making sure I can take care of myself.
“Falco…” Bracing one hand against the mat, I sit up slowly. “I will fight.”
“That was a good blow.” Mouth open, he rolls his jaw from side to side then looks at me with eyes carrying more sadness than I can bear. “But next time, you need to put more of an arc into it.”
“Falco…”
“And make sure your fist is tight against your chest like this.” He mimics my motion and tucks his fist up against his shoulder. “Like a chicken wing.”
