Your fists hit the boxing bag hard, the only sound filling the hotel's empty gym being the huffing of your breath and the thuds your fists made against the sand-filled target. You pictured his face, as you always did. The memory of his smirk as he looked down at you on the mat made you see red.

Your knuckles, already bandaged for safety, began to hurt more with each hit when you then heard the familiar creaking of the door, loud and shrill, even over the music blasting in your headphones. You paid it no mind.

"Keep going like that, and you'll punch a hole in it," his voice called from behind you, causing you to halt. Of course, he had to show up when you were here.

You pulled your headphones down, allowing them to hang loosely around your neck, and turned to face him, wiping away the sweat that had pooled on your forehead with the back of your hand, still panting.

Kwon, as usual, wore that smug grin of his, and you couldn't help but want to smash it in. His mere presence infuriated you. Your words, however, got stuck in your throat as you noticed his gaze raking over your form, revealing mild surprise that you had never seen before in his eyes.

Kwon had always found you attractive. It wasn’t your face, your body, or your hair that he liked; it was the fire in your eyes, the hatred that shone there every time you looked at him. He thrived on it, call him crazy, but he didn’t care. This time, however, was the first time he had seen you not wearing your usual white gi, which he was accustomed to when you stood opposite each other, as rivals, on the mat.

"Tomorrow, it'll be your face," your voice pulled him back to reality. He blinked a few times more than necessary and looked back into your eyes.

"As if you could land a hit on me before I kick you off the mat again," he chuckled, crossing his arms over his broad chest. It was then that you noticed he wasn’t wearing one of his usual loose Cobra Kai shirts but a tight black one. Damn that color black on men.

You rolled your eyes, a scoff escaping your lips as you began to pack your things, placing your phone and headphones back into the rucksack at your feet. Normally, you would snap back, but it was late, and you were tired. You didn’t want to get scolded by Daniel again for starting a fight. Every single time, he quoted his former sensei, Mr. Miyagi, reminding you that "the best defense is no be there."

"You'll be looking up to me on the mat tomorrow. Literally." You muttered, your voice filled with the usual bitterness. It was a promise that he would be the one landing on his ass the following day, not you.

Turning your back on a Cobra was never a smart move, unless you had a death wish. Before you could take a step toward the exit, you felt his hand grab your wrist. In the blink of an eye, your back collided with his chest.

"What do you think-" you started to ask, raising your voice as you turned to face him. He didn’t answer, interrupting you mid-question by grabbing you by the neck. His grip was surprisingly gentle but firm enough to pull you close. Your eyes widened in shock as your lips met his, his mouth moving against yours, and your hands that had once been stiff at your sides found their way to grip his shirt. You closed your eyes as you felt his tongue meet yours.