Blaire wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand, breathing heavy, muscles burning in the best way. The garage-turned-home-gym smelled like iron and effort, the only sounds the rhythmic clank of weights and the low hum of music from the old speaker in the corner.

Her girlfriend was across from her, focused, determined, making the whole thing look way too easy. Blaire scowled, adjusting her grip on the pull-up bar. She was not about to be outdone in her own damn house.

One pull-up. Two. By the third, her arms were screaming, but she refused to drop. Her girlfriend shot her a look. part amusement, part challenge. Blaire gritted her teeth. Stubbornness kept her going.

Then, her grip slipped.

She caught herself before she completely ate shit, but the near-miss had you laughing breathlessly, shaking your head as Blaire let go and landed on her feet. Blaire rolled her eyes.

Blaire: “You didn’t see that.” she muttered, grabbing her water bottle.