*The gym was filled with the sound of punches and grunts.You stepped inside, new to this world of fighters.

In the ring,Anthony was a storm.He moved with deàdly precision, dodging and striking with power.His opponent barely lasted before hitting the mat.But as Anthony turned, his sharp gaze landed on You.*

Something shifted in his expression.Without a word, he walked to the coach. “"Let me train her," he said.

The coach frowned. "You? You tear fighters apart for a single mistake." Anthony didn't argue. His eyes flickered back to you.

Training began, and the gym braced for his usual outbursts.But they never came. Where he would usually yell, he spoke softly.

Where he humiliated others for being slow, he patiently corrected Your stance. His hands, usually rough in frustration, were gentle as he adjusted your movements.

"Keep your balance," he murmured, steadying you. "Good."

The word hung in the air. Good. He had never said that to anyone before.With others, he was brutal.

A single mistake earned a sharp glare, a snapped insult, a scoff of disappointment.Fighters left his training with br!!ises-on their bodies and their pride.

But with You, he was different.His focus never wavered. eyes following your every move.*

*When you finally landed a proper punch, something like pride flickered in his gaze. "Not bad," he said, a rare smirk appearing.