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megaphonemonday · 7 years

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mike driving ginny home after a night of partying & their obvious connection becomes too much for them

all right, go with me on this one. it’s a little weird, but i kinda like it. It’s more of a movie montage than anything? Listen to this while you read if you like!

a wordless, unspoken poem | ao3

Mike Lawson leans back against the bar, a bottle of beer that had ceased to sweat nearly twenty minutes ago in one of his hands. His eyes scan the crowd, not in interest, but seeking out someone specific.

He finds her and one corner of his mouth tilts up. Not quite a smile, but certainly a hint of fondness.

Across the crowded room, Ginny Baker looks up from the conversation she’s having with Sonny and Blip, like she’s aware of the attention on her. His attention, specifically. None of the many stares pointed her way seem to affect her the way his does. Her eyes catch on Mike’s and that same tilt takes over her lips.

Mike quirks a brow and Ginny’s head ducks. She glances up and Mike shrugs. A smile, a real one, brighter than the neon signage decorating the walls, breaks across her face and Mike’s eyes roll. She shakes her head, finally catching the attention of the two men closest to her. They take one look at where her attention is, though, and there’s another round of head shaking.

Not that either Mike or Ginny notice.

Instead, Mike tilts his head to the front of the bar, the door, with a raised brow. Ginny nods, ignoring both Blip and Sonny as they trade rueful grins, and throws some cash on their table before winding her way to Mike. She weaves through the crowd, as light on her feet as ever, but can’t help but brush against a few people as she goes. It’s crowded tonight, and not just because word got out that Ginny Baker is in attendance.

One of those people recognizes her and Mike watches as she pauses to take a selfie, leaving the guy star struck long after she continues on her way. When she finally gets to Mike, the look on her face dares him to make a comment. He just holds up his hands, palms out. He jerks his head to the door again and she nods.

Together, they make their way out to his car.

Mike slides into the driver’s seat of the low-slung sports car and though it should seem like a study in contrasts, he looks incredibly at home behind the wheel. Ginny folds her long legs into the passenger’s side, shaking her head. She doesn’t have to say anything for Mike to know what she’s thinking. They’ve had the conversation often enough. Still, her fingers trace over the hand-stitched leather of the seat appreciatively.

He has to tear his eyes away, gunning the engine before pulling out of the spot.

Ginny’s restless fingers move on from the line of stitches. They dance just over where Mike’s hands rest on the gear shift and land on the radio.

Music, something poppy and overplayed, fills the intimate space, lit up only by the blue glow of the dashboard controls and intermittent slashes of gold: passing streetlights.

Before he even has time to sneer, Ginny’s changing the station, tossing him a knowing look. She’s lit up for a brief moment by oncoming headlights, dimples cast in deep shadow. Mike settles back in his seat as she flicks through the options, the buzz of static punctuated by bursts of song or speech. Her nose crinkles more and more the further she goes until she finally gives in and turns it off.

The car descends back into quiet, only broken by a steady tick tick tick when Mike changes lanes.

Ginny closes her eyes, far too comfortable in the low bucket seat. She props her feet up on the dash and though Mike’s eyes follow the movement, he doesn’t protest. Instead, he focuses back on the road, attention caught by a familiar sign.

Without asking, he turns in.

Ginny’s eyes open as she feels her body lean with the turn, and she lights up at the sight of an In-N-Out. Tired as she is after a long night and longer day, she’s not going to turn down a midnight snack.

Pivoting in her seat, she offers Mike a big grin. He rolls his eyes, like her enthusiasm is too much, but a grin of his own lurks beneath the beard.

He pulls into a parking spot and kills the engine. Ginny doesn’t complain that he won’t let her eat in the car, though she does pout, just a little. Still, she climbs out and falls into step with her captain, his arm fitting easily over her shoulders. Her own wraps around his back as they head for the walk-up window.

In minutes, what they get for showing up for burgers at nearly midnight—no wait—they have their food, a truly impressive array for two people.

Ginny leads the way to one of the picnic tables set up nearby, leaving Mike to balance the boxes of food and drinks. Rather than sit like the fully grown adult she is, she climbs up and seats herself on the table itself, feet planted on the bench. Mike follows suit with a long suffering sigh and a rueful shake of his head, setting the food in the space between them. It’s all for show, though, his grin breaking free as he watches Ginny dig in.

There’s no use talking to Ginny when she’s eating, and Mike doesn’t even try. Instead, he sneaks glances at her from the corner of his eyes. Each glance lingers longer and longer until he’s just staring, unabashed.

When she finally notices, she doesn’t blush or duck away. Her head tilts to the side and she turns to him. Their knees knock together and two sets of eyes fly down to the point of contact. Slowly, both of their gazes trail back over the other, Ginny taking in Mike’s solid thigh and how soft his flannel looks, Mike noticing the way the hair on Ginny’s arms stand on end and her fingers tighten on what’s left of her Double-Double. Finally, their eyes lock together again.

Some kind of understanding must pass between them because while they both look away, neither is disappointed. If anything, there’s an air of anticipation condensing around them.

They go back to eating.

Neither moves their knee.

Not until they’re both done and Mike clambers down, crumpling up wrappers and collecting napkins to throw away. When he turns back to Ginny, he stops in his tracks.

She’s got her arms braced behind her, face tipped up to the sky. A few curls flutter across her forehead in the light breeze. Even in the harsh light of the In-N-Out parking lot, she’s so clearly beautiful. She’s always beautiful, there are enough pictures of her in the middle of games to prove that, but there’s something about tonight that hits Mike right between the eyes.

After a moment, Ginny comes back to herself. Her chin tips back down and she catches Mike standing a few feet away.

She smiles and beauty becomes radiance.

She reaches her hand out and in a heartbeat, Mike’s crossed the distance to take it. He hands her down and for a moment they just stand, fingers twined together. Eventually, though, Ginny tugs and they head back to the car.

When Mike pulls back onto the road, Ginny doesn’t bother to turn the radio on again. The quiet is comfortable, anyway. She doesn’t want to leave it.

Mike seems to sense that, pointing the car away from either of their places, heading for the coast.

He drives north, for all it’s not as good a view from the passenger’s side. If it keeps Ginny’s face tilted towards him, to take in the vast, glittering expanse of the Pacific, that’s not why Mike smiles as they drive.

They pass by a road sign and while neither of them mention it or point it out, both know what they’ll do.

In no time, Mike’s car is pulling into another parking lot, this one lit up only by the waning moon and paved in gravel.

Still, Ginny throws herself out of the car with even more enthusiasm than In-N-Out had earned. She rounds the front of the hood, already reaching for Mike’s hand again. Willingly, he gives it to her, and they trudge down the narrow path that will lead them to their goal. Dense shrubs gather close, like they guard some well kept secret.

And not a public beach.

When they finally break back into the free air, Mike makes sure to turn and watch Ginny’s face as she lays her eyes on the ocean up close for the first time of the evening. Clearly, he’s seen the look before, but the way he grins, rapt, says that it’s just as delightful now as it’s ever been. When Ginny turns back to him, she grins, too.

And dashes for the shoreline, Mike’s hand still held tight in hers.

He stumbles a little after her, his heavy boots sinking into the stand. She’s so eager, though, he presses on, unwilling to be the thing to hold her back.

They stop just beyond the high tide mark, somehow managing to kick off shoes and roll up pant legs with their fingers tangled together.

Together, they run into the waves.

They both inhale hard at the shock of cold water, though it only swirls midway up their calves.

There’s a long moment where Ginny and Mike size each other up from the corners of their eyes, lips twitching, clearly considering the possibility of starting some kind of splash war. But the night is so calm, so quiet. It would be a shame to break that, even with their joy. Instead, they wade through the ebb and flow, making their way down the beach, fingers still twined together.

(There are many kinds of joy.)

Soon, she’s shivering.

Mike reels her in, wrapping his arms around her, hands chafing her arms to get the blood flowing again. She slips her arms into the open front of his flannel, tucking them around his waist, between his skin-warm t-shirt and the soft plaid. Her head falls against his chest and Mike props his chin against the springy cushion of her hair.

Cool water still rushes against their ankles, their feet being sucked deeper into the wet sand. Neither of them move, though, too wrapped up in one another.

Ginny nuzzles her cheek against his chest before pulling away. Just far enough that she can look up and trace Mike’s features in the weak light of the moon. He returns the favor, studying her dear, familiar face.

Her throat bobs in a gulp and Mike returns his gaze to hers.

He must find something he likes because he leans in, just a bit. Enough to make his intention clear, but keeping enough distance to ensure the choice is hers.

She makes it.

Her face tilts up to him and she connects their lips in a kiss.

A first kiss.

Tender and a little off-center, but as sure as they ever are.

One of his hands comes up to cradle her cheek and she sighs, leaning into his palm as her lips drop open. Under his flannel, her fist curls into the fabric between his shoulder blades, a hardly visible lump to anyone watching. For a long moment, their tongues tangle, easy and eager at the same time.

When they pull apart, entirely unsated, but needing to breathe, Mike’s forehead leans heavily against Ginny’s. Like neither can bear the thought of moving further away. His nose bumps against hers and she returns the nuzzle.

With a deep breath, Ginny looses her hold on Mike’s shirt. She smooths the fabric against his back, her hands trailing against his spine before she finally lets him go.

Shakily, Mike exhales. His thumb caresses the arch of her cheekbone, one long sweep. He readies himself to step away. Step back.

But Ginny surprises him. She turns into his palm, lips pressing a gentle kiss to the center. Her hand comes up to pull it away from her face, but she doesn’t drop it. Instead, palms together, she laces her fingers between his.

Last, she tips her face up to him, smiling.

“Take me home, Mike.”

#Anonymous #bawson #bawson fic #pitch fic #i wrote something #idk idk idk #it is what it is

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aj22writes · 7 years

Text

Chapter four...

...is gonna be the last one for a couple of days. I want to maintain a little bit of a buffer. In this chapter, we learn about how Sol energy can be used to affect someone’s body. And there’s more fighting. So two cool things.

Chapter Four

Team Beatdown

Vs.

Team Dueling Hearts

This time it was Jen’s turn to be surprised by her opponent’s movements. As soon as the stout man announced the start of the match, Mike seemed to disappear. Despite the fact that Jen routinely trained against the Dueling Hearts, who could move so fast as to appear invisible for a second or so, she was unable to follow Mike’s initial rush. As soon as he flickered out of the range of her vision, he flickered back into it again just in front of her, in time to score a solid right jab to her jaw.

Jen reeled from the hit. There had been a good amount of momentum behind it, and it had left her ears ringing, but it hadn’t had the strength behind it that she’d expected. It had served, however, to allow Mike to once again move out of Jen’s field of vision. This time he could be anywhere in the arena. She didn’t bother looking for him. She knew she wouldn’t find him. Instead she began tracing a shape in the floor again with her foot. However, just as she did, she felt the air stirring to her left. Her feet became wrapped in soft purple light in the same instant that she jumped, sailing several feet into the air, clear over the reaching form of Mike, his fist outstretched. Jen frowned. Her opponent wasn’t going to give her time to draw a sigil this time. She’d have to fight this one the old fashioned way.

Jen reversed the energy in her feet, increasing gravity’s pull on them, and dropped like a stone. Mike, still beneath her, seemed genuinely surprised, but he was able to compartmentalize his surprise and still use his incredible speed to change direction in time to avoid Jen’s attack. Jen’s move had been risky. She’d dropped too fast, and wasn’t able to reverse her energy again in time to soften her landing. She rolled upon impact with the ground, but the fall had still been heavy enough that her left knee now throbbed dully with pain. She could manage it, of course, but it would still serve to slow her down and increase the gap between her opponent’s speed and her own even further.

From the sidelines, Sara, in her usually hostile way, demanded, “How is he doing that? How is he moving so fast? His legs are scrawnier than mine.”

Jo didn’t answer. She’d been wondering the same thing, and just as Sara asked her question, Mike made another high speed lunge at Jen. As soon as he was within reach of her, he wound up and threw his heaviest punch in a downward arch in Jen’s direction. That’s when Jo saw it. Energy crackled along Mike’s body, from his legs to his arms. Jen managed to avoid the strike by a hair, and Mike struck the floor where she’d been standing. The entire arena shook. Then, as Jen spun in place, trying to counter Mike with a kick, he shuffled back, and energy crackled along his body once again, from his arms to his legs, and suddenly he was gone, leaving Jen attacking only air.

“That’s how,” Jo told her sister, her eyes glimmering, impressed. “He’s using Sol energy to augment his speed and power, but he’s using all of it at once for each. So if he wants to move fast, he needs to move all of his Sol energy to his legs, but if he wants to hit hard at all, he has to move it to his arms.”

“That’s crazy,” Tucker said. “I mean, yeah, I use Sol energy to make my attacks stronger too, or to buff up my defense and take more hits, but you gotta commit to one or the other for the whole fight. No one can just shift their Sol around that fast.”

“I’ve known of people who can,” Jo told him. “No wonder Mike seems so undertrained. He’s never needed to improve his physique. He’s trained his Sol so well that he can more than make up for any physical weaknesses with Sol energy alone.”

Jen had noticed this, too. Despite how impossible it must have seemed to her, she’d internalized it and moved on. Immediately, she refocused all of her efforts into staying just ahead of Mike, trying to assess his movements. She wasn’t even trying yet to counterattack. It was remarkable that she was able to keep ahead of him at all, even with her power to decrease the pull of gravity on herself, but despite how impressive she was currently proving herself to be, she was going to slip up eventually.

That’s about when Jen misstepped, just a little, and came down too hard again on her injured knee. It wasn’t enough to take her out of the fight, but it was enough to give her a second’s pause. Mike saw his opening, and moved all of his energy to his arms, just as he threw an uppercut to Jen’s gut. Jen tried to grab onto Mike’s arm, but she was still thrown upward, and gasped as the air left her lungs. Mike moved the energy back to his legs and jumped up to match Jen’s height. He flipped in mid air, and brought his heel downward like an axe. Jen raised her hands to block as much of the impact as she could, but she was still thrown back to the ground, where she bounced hard, her head spinning.

Mike landed, and then sprung back, putting some distance between himself and his opponent, as the stout man began the count. Jen almost stayed down. What little semblance of a plan she had didn’t have much chance of working anyway, but she had a stubborn streak just like her cousins. So at the count of five, she drew herself back up to her feet, took a deep breath, and moved her aching body into a readied stance again. Energy once again wrapped her feet, making her body lighter in preparation for her next attempt at keeping pace with her foe.

“You’re tough,” said Mike, showing genuine appreciation for Jen’s skills.

“And you’re infuriating,” Jen told him, in a tone that said that her words were ones of appreciation as well, “but I think that you’ll be surprised by just how much fight I have left in me, and how infuriating I can be, too.”

Mike smiled, and he rushed Jen again. She dodged, and dodged again. It wasn’t by much, but her teammates noticed that she avoided his attack by more than she had last time, and that Mike’s advance hadn’t been as fast. More surprisingly, though, was that, in that moment, Jen chose to strike back. She threw a roundhouse kick right at Mike’s torso. Mike, as surprised as all who were watching, was too slow, and wasn’t able to change direction in time to avoid it. He was slammed hard in the gut, just as Jen had been moments before, and thrown back, though even now, he didn’t move as far or as fast as he should have.

“What did you do to me?” Mike asked Jen through ragged breaths.

Jen, smirking, replied, “When I grabbed your arm, and again when I reached up and blocked your kick, I passed a little of my energy to you, and then, the moment you moved to attack me again just now, I activated that energy, making the pull of gravity a bit stronger on you. Not as much as I could have with another of the sigils, like I used on your friend, but enough to bring your speed down to my level.”

Mike nodded, “You’re tougher than I expected. You’re the kind of fighter who treats a fight like a puzzle to solve, and with those gravity powers of yours, bringing a faster or stronger opponent down to your level is the first step in beating them.”

Then he smiled in a knowing way and declared, “The only problem is, I’m not on your level.”

The air became charged with energy, and every experienced Sol user in the room knew immediately what Mike was doing. They could feel as he forced the Sol energy and the life energy at the core of his being to mix. His Sol energy exploded. Where the best that the average fighter could do at this point was channel such energy into a quick boost to one attribute, Mike was no average fighter. He was able to hold onto that energy, and his entire body became wrapped in it. Suddenly his entire body was surrounded by a churning white aura. The crowd cheered. Jen took an apprehensive step back, ready to defend against her opponent’s next strike, if she could.

“I don’t get it,” Jo said from the sidelines, considering Mike’s latest choice critically, “from what I can feel, all his aura did was allow him to boost his strength and speed at the same time without having to move his energy around. But that won’t make it any easier for him to hit Jen.”

However, before either Sara or Tucker could respond, there was a surge of static, and the air shifted, as Mike disappeared once again, flickering back into view in the same place that he’d started. Every spectator, save for the other members of Mike’s team, sucked in a collective gasp of air as Jen doubled over, unconscious. The stout man began his count.

“H-he moved even faster than before,” Sara said, fumbling over her words in disbelief.

“A lot faster,” said Tucker, “I-I couldn’t even see when he hit her.” He was trying, and failing, to hide how worried he was. After all, he was the one who had to fight Mike next.

While the two of them wondered how Mike had managed to increase his speed so much again, Jo didn’t have to wonder. She’d managed to follow Mike’s move, if only barely. As the count reached ten, and Jen, just regaining consciousness, was being helped from the arena by one of the Megadojo employees, Jo turned to Tucker and said, absolutely seriously, “Tuck, he can move his entire aura into his legs or his arms. The entire thing.”

“What!?” Tucker exclaimed. He looked again at Mike like he was seeing him for the first time.

“Don’t hold back at all,” Jo told him. “Hit him with everything you have right from the start.”

Tucker, his eyes wide, nodded, and collected himself. He jumped the short distance to the arena, and walked forward, facing off with Mike in the arena center. Mike’s aura was still active, and he didn’t seem to have any problem maintaining it.

Alright, Tucker thought, no holding back. I can live with that.

He smiled his nervousness away, and he concentrated on his energies. The air became charged with even greater quantities of energy, and static flew between Tucker and his opponent. Just as the stout man called for the fight to start, and Mike shot forward at his insane levels of speed, aiming to end this fight as quickly as he had eventually ended the last, heat and light erupted from Tucker’s body. He’d done the same thing that Mike had done. He’d mixed his Sol and life energy, but just like Mike, he wasn’t satisfied with a temporary boost. He’d seized that energy with his entire will. As Mike struck, Tucker actually reacted quickly enough to catch his opponent’s fist. The two warriors were blasted apart by their clashing energies, sliding to a stop forty feet apart. Cheers erupted from the crowd again.

Mike gasped, and suddenly he looked upon Tucker with newfound respect, and a healthy level of concern. He hadn’t been sure that it would work, but Tucker had given it his all, and now he was, himself wrapped in an aura. A fiery aura of swirling red and orange light. It was wilder than Mike’s, and unlike Mike, Tucker was struggling a bit to keep his aura going, and he couldn’t move the energy from his aura around the way Mike could, but Tucker’s aura was bigger.

Tucker grinned at Mike, his eyes flashing with pride, “How do you like that? This is the aura from my fire Sol.”

Mike tilted his head and took a deep, controlled breath, “Should be interesting.”

The two fighters circled each other. Tucker had to push himself as hard as he had ever pushed himself, and then even harder, just to keep pace. The arena floor where his feet touched the ground was left scorched and smoking behind him. Then, finally, after ten seconds or so of sizing each other up, they rushed at each other. They traded blow after blow. Mike fired his fists faster than Tucker was able to, but he wasn’t able to put the full energy of his Sol behind them and still keep up with Tucker as the two of them darted around the allotted space. Still, Tucker felt his stamina decreasing with each punch he threw, and each hit he took. The strain of maintaining his aura was wearing him down. He had to do something quick, or even putting out the full energy of his Sol, Mike was still going to take him apart.

So Tucker amped up his energy again, renewing his aura. It was hard, and he almost lost his aura completely, but it gave him an extra boost of speed, just enough to pull back from Mike and swerve around beside him. Then he sprung up, and threw a heavy kick right at Mike’s head. Mike, using his enhanced speed, sprung to the side, and then forward, slamming both of his fists into Tucker’s torso.

Tucker gasped, but this is what he’d expected to happen. Before Mike had even finished attacking, before he had time to shuffle back out of Tucker’s reach, even with his great speed, Tucker brought his elbow down on Mike’s left shoulder. He put everything he had into that strike, planning to take out one of Mike’s arms, but just because Mike couldn’t move fast enough, that didn’t mean that he couldn’t defend. His aura sprung from his arms, and enveloped his entire body, shielding it. Tucker still hit, and his attack still hurt, but it didn’t do nearly as much damage as he had hoped.

Mike made his move without missing a beat. He lowered his body, and spun in place, sweeping Tucker’s legs out from under him. Then he flickered out of view again. Tucker had no idea where he was, or what he was planning to do, but he dropped into a roll, rather than fall to the ground. He sprung to his feet. Before he could even regain his footing, though, he was knocked forward suddenly. It only took him a second to realize that Mike had gotten behind him and scored a solid kick. Tucker felt the air stir as Mike circled him, preparing to strike again.

It was a long shot. Tucker wasn’t even sure where Mike would attack him from, but his instincts told him that Mike would plan to attack where the kick would send him. So, acting on impulse, he flared up his aura, and stopped mid-air. That same moment, Mike flickered into view just ahead of him, his arm outstretched, wrapped in white light. If Tucker had not stopped, Mike’s attack would have caught him square in the side of his head. He likely would have been knocked out in an instant.

Tucker dropped to the ground, and leaped back up in the same instant. He threw a kick at Mike’s extended torso. He expected Mike to avoid him again, but he didn’t. He kept his aura in his arms, and he deflected Tucker’s kick, with effort, and then stepped in close, catching Tucker by surprise and hitting him square in the center of his chest.

Tucker was knocked backwards. The air flew from his lungs. He huffed, gulping down new air to replace it. He held on to his aura, but only barely. Mike lunged at him again. Tucker was too slow to react this time, and he took one of Mike’s full power hits right to the jaw. Even with his aura up, helping to defend him, Tucker saw stars. Worst of all, though, that was that. He lost his concentration, and as he sailed through the air, his aura disappeared. He landed hard, and the stout man started counting.

Tucker shook his head, trying to clear it. Mike stood in a ready stance several feet away, in case Tucker got back up again, even after everything. Tucker moaned. His entire body hurt. Some of the pain was new. Some of it was old pain from past fights reignited. He almost didn’t get up. He’d fought hard, after all. Mike was just stronger. There was no shame in that. Then, at the count of seven, he looked over, and he saw that Mike was actually breathing hard. Even if he couldn’t win, Tucker was making progress. He shook his head again. Maybe some of that good old Sieger family stubbornness was rubbing off on him, but at the count of nine, he stood up. It drained almost all of the stamina that he had left, but he forced his Sol energy and his life energy to mix a third time, and his fiery aura flickered into existence around him.

He charged forward. His aura flared out behind him, forcing him forward, boosting his speed. At the same moment, Mike charged forward as well. He put all of his aura into his legs for a second at the start of his advance, and then shifted it all into his right arm. Tucker raised his right arm, and, with a moment of concentration, his aura flared brighter. The two threw their punches at the same time. Their fists sailed past each other, and each struck true the other’s jaw. Mike and Tucker sailed apart. Mike managed to keep his footing, though his breathing had become even faster and heavier. His aura flickered. He wiped a trickle of blood from his lip.

Tucker also managed to stay on his feet, though that didn’t last too long. His arms hung heavy at his sides. His eyes were glassy. His aura disappeared again, and he fell heavily to the floor. This time, he stayed down, at least until the count of ten.

Sara was up next. Even with Mike two fights in, and clearly fatigued, the spectators all murmured collectively, wondering what she might be able to do. She was small, and didn’t look very fast or strong. The other Dueling Hearts, however, knew better. Tucker never would have made the choice to stay down if he didn’t know that Sara was more than strong enough to pick up where he had left off. Jo had been on the receiving end of her sister’s cornered badger rage more than once. Jen was convinced that Sara was one of only a handful of people alive that it was always a bad idea for her to piss off. So as Sara made the short trip into the arena, moving with clear purpose, and harsh eyes trained upon her opponent, in the end, the only person whose opinion of Sara actually mattered who wasn’t sure that she would win was Mike himself, and that attitude didn’t do him any favors.

The stout man called for the fight to start. Mike immediately moved to attack Sara. He moved at the closest that he could muster anymore to his full speed, but Sara was ready for him. She felt for the shifting air that signified his movements. She wasn’t entirely sure where he would attack from, but she knew that the attack would come from somewhere on her left. So she shifted in place, and twisted subtly, spinning, acting on instinct to dance around Mike’s incoming strike. In the same motion, she ducked beneath Mike’s outstretched arms, twisted inside his guard, and delivered a tiny elbow right into Mike’s celiac plexus with the force of a sledge hammer.

Mike doubled back, but before he could even recover, Sara pressed her attack. She launched a series of swift jabs in Mike’s direction. Huffing from loss of air, Mike managed to deflect only the first two. He nearly toppled, lashing out one more time with all of his remaining strength. Sara danced gracefully around the attack, spun once on her heel, drawing on the energy of her Sol to kick Mike in the side of the head with everything she had. He tried to defend with his aura, but it wasn’t enough. His aura dissipated, and he fell to the ground. He wasn’t able to stand before the count resolved. Meanwhile, Sara moved to stand ready on her team’s side of the arena, still completely unwinded.

“The score is now tied,” the stout man announced, sounding surprised, “two to two. Will the Dueling Hearts be able to keep up their incredible pace, or will they lose out to the regional champions? Only time will tell!”

Sara smirked, remembering the stout man’s speech outside less than an hour ago, and how he had mentioned Team Beatdown by name, and had not mentioned the name Team Dueling Hearts at all. Now it was the opposite. So as the third Beatdown, the blonde young man, Jason, stepped up to fight her, Sara decided that, stupid name or not, she was not going to let Team Dueling Hearts down. She was going to make sure that they won this thing.

Onward to Chapter Five

#dueling hearts #dh jen #dh tucker #dh mike #heart to heart #chapter 1x04 #aj22writes

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