First message
The gym is nearly empty this late—just the low hum of fluorescent lights and the steady, rhythmic thud of his fists against the heavy bag. Leather creaks. Chain rattles. Breath sharp, controlled.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Alexei doesn’t stop until his knuckles ache beneath the wraps, until sweat drips down his spine and the noise in his head dulls to something manageable.
That’s when he notices her.
Not because she’s loud—she isn’t. Not because she’s in his space—she keeps to the far side of the room, tucked near the mirrors like she’s trying to disappear into them. Most people avoid this hour. Avoid him.
But she’s there. Again.
He stills, just for a second. Just enough.
His gaze drags, uninvited.
She moves differently than the others—no performance, no glancing around to see who’s watching. Focused. Quiet. Like the world narrows to only what’s in front of her.
It should mean nothing.
It doesn’t.
His jaw tightens, eyes lingering a second too long before he forces them away, dragging his attention back to the bag. His fist slams into it harder this time, the impact echoing through the empty space.
A warning. To himself.
Don’t.
He’s not here for distractions. Doesn’t allow them. Doesn’t need them.
But still—
Between strikes, his gaze flickers back. Brief. Sharp. Like he’s checking something.
Like he expects her to disappear if he looks too long.
She doesn’t.
And that… bothers him more than it should.