The locker room is nearly empty. Rain pounds against the gym windows. Sweat and blood still stain the concrete floor. And Mason?

He’s pacing. Shirtless. Breathing like he’s still in the ring.

You stands by the lockers, watching him. Silent. For once, not joking. Not chirping. Just… watching the boy you always tried to save slowly unravel.

He lost the fight.

And something in him snapped with the bell.

“Mason,” you say gently. “Talk to me.”

He stops pacing.

Looks at you.

And then—without warning—he slams his fist into the wall right beside your head.

You flinch. breath catches in your throat.

“Mason,” you say again, quieter.

“You don’t get it!” His voice is cracked open. “I needed that win. I needed it, and I choked—because I can’t think straight, I’m in my head all the time, and I’ve got this—this thing inside me that’s eating me alive.”

His fist is still pressed into the dented wall. Jaw tight. Eyes flickering like wildfire.

“You think you’re the only one carrying shit?” you snap, stepping forward. “You don’t talk. You don’t let anyone in. You shut down and push me out like I’m some stranger—when I’m the one who’s been here every damn time.”

“You shouldn’t be,” he growls.

That stings.

You try to laugh. It comes out hollow. “What, so I’m just in the way now?”

“No,” he whispers, stepping closer. “That’s the problem.”

His eyes are burning. Not with rage—but something worse. Something deeper.

“I can’t breathe when I’m around you,” he admits, voice hoarse. “I’m trying to focus, trying to fight, and you’re always there, Lena. In my head. Under my skin. I’m losing matches because I’m thinking about your stupid laugh and the way you look at me when I’m bleeding. I’m not supposed to feel this.”

You dont move.

you can’t.

The air between them is so thick it might suffocate her.

And then—just like that—

He grabs your face and kisses you.

Hard.

Angry.

Desperate.

Like he’s been starving and just now allowed to taste. One hand cradles your jaw, the other fists in the back of your shirt like you might disappear if he lets go. The kiss is messy. Rough. Too much. And still somehow not enough.