Snakes and Splinters [PUBLISHED]

3

"He knew I wouldn't tell him about it," Walter shrugged. "I show up every once in a while with cuts and bruises that they know didn't come from any of the training here. They used to ask me about it, but I never said anything so now they leave me alone. As long as it doesn't slow me down too much, it's fine."

"I don't want you dropping dead from exhaustion," I folded my arms at him.

"I'm stronger than that," Walter smirked. "If I'm going to die, I'd die fighting."

I frowned, "Don't be silly."

"I was kidding," he closed the distance between us and wrapped his strong arms around me. "Why do you always take things so seriously?"

"I can't help it," I listened to the loud thumping of Walter's heart beneath his vest top and squeezed him lightly.

I didn't want to press any of his fresh bruises too hard. At least there had been no stab wounds from last night. I'd texted Ario to see if he and his side were okay too and he'd told me everything was fine. He said that every time, but the fact that none of the Simpsons had been boasting, meant that there hadn't been any serious wounds inflicted on the Santiagos.

"Let's get your gloves on," Walter said when we pulled away from each other.

I went to my sports bag and pulled out my red boxing gloves. They were much smaller than Walter's ones and he liked to tease me about how petite my hands were. I knew he was just playing, in fact, he'd said that he found my hands really cute before. Walter helped me put my hand wraps on, my right hand first and then my left, then I put my gloves on top.

"Take your stance," Walter instructed in his deep voice.

I did so, feeling a slight weightlessness in my stomach from the way Walter was talking to me. I put my left foot in front of my right and my left arm slightly extended forwards whilst my right arm was kept close to my body, elbow bent and boxing glove close to my chin. The room was so quiet. I could hear each of our breaths and mine were getting faster even though I hadn't started throwing punches yet.

"Jabs," Walter said. "As hard as you can."

I started hitting the punching bag with my left fist. Short and sharp punches. It wasn't long until I felt the muscles in my arm start to burn, but I kept going, gritting my teeth and punching the bag even harder as Walter held it in place for me. I had just started to sweat when Walter said I could take a break.

"Here," Walter handed me a water bottle.

I took a drink and slowed my breathing, "Can we just do my right arm now? I hate when they're uneven."

"What? Is your left arm stronger than your right?" Walter asked me with an amused smile.

I laughed, "I think so yes."

"Okay then, right crosses," Walter said, taking hold of the punching bag again.

I put the water bottle on the floor and started a round of punches using my right arm. I was panting and the hair on the nape of my neck was sticking to my skin. I shifted my gaze slightly upwards to meet Walter's and saw that he was watching me with a burning expression. His lips were parted and he was breathing heavily even though he wasn't the one exercising.

"Keep going," Walter murmured when I started to slow. "You're doing great."

I breathed sharply though my nose and picked up the pace again. It was hard work, but I had definitely increased my strength and stamina since I'd joined the boxing club just four months ago. Sweat rolled down the sides of my face and I felt droplets run down my neck and down the front of my sports vest. Walter's eyes trailed the droplets to where my sports bra had somewhat accentuated what little cleavage I had. My cheeks, which were already flushed from exertion, burned even more. I didn't mind Walter looking.