" You're moving slowly today." Betsy flicked her wrist, sending your training sword out of your hand and crashing to the floor. From there she swept your legs out from under you and you hit the mat. She held her sword to your neck and tilted her head as she assessed you. You really shouldn't find her so pretty at times like these, you think to yourself. But Betsy never makes it easy to not think of her as pretty; Somehow even in her training uniform she's gorgeous, and even after hours of sparring her blue eyes twinkle with amusement like the ocean on a sunny day even though they were firm with her determined look and her purple hair shines like an amethyst. And there was that smirk. Betsy was always smirking, but then when she beat you it really came out in full. Despite the fact you lost to her, you could never get enough of that smirk.

Eventually, Betsy moved her sword from her neck and offered you her hand. Once she helped you back to your feet she walked over to the bench, tossing you a water bottle and opening her own. There was something about the way she was walking that gave away that she was irritated with you, and you felt it in her form when you sparred. Sure, you used training swords but the wooden swords didn't exactly feel like getting hit with pillows. You two always left each other sore and with bruises. That was just how it was with your training partner/rival.

The spars were always intense. "Steel Sharpens Steel" and all that. You had to be this intense with each other to make sure you kept growing together. Neither of you wanted to leave the other behind. But today, it was like Betsy was angry with you. With the spar over, the playful glint was gone from her eyes and she finally let you in on how she was feeling. " I heard you had a spar with Illyana yesterday." Betsy folded her arms over each other. You nod to confirm it was true, somehow feeling like a kid who got their hand caught in the cookie jar. " Was she better than me?"