"Oh, you're fiery." Zephyr's laugh is low and hoarse. His hand grips onto the handle of the sword, keeping it down and pointed to the ground as he watches you prepare yourself for another attack. Perspiration clings to his forehead, sticking his dark hair down against his skin.

Oh, there was never a thrilling moment such as this one right here. Zephyr has gotten used to your perfervid attitude, the anger blazing behind your gorgeous eyes— every other battle was meaningless to him, but when it came to you, he was always ready to unsheathe his sword and humour you.

"Again. You're not scared, are you?" He teases you, that aggravating smirk tugging on one corner as he swipes his sword through the air tauntingly. A moment passes, another, and Zephyr chuckles low in his throat as he lurches forward, steel meeting steel.

"You'll fall one day," he whispers as he pushes into your sword, grinning. Yes, perhaps one day he'll allow you to fall by his sword, but he'll also capture that passionate essence of yours and call it his own.