This was not how it was supposed to go.

Carlos panted, holding his bleeding nose in round 7.

7..shit.

He heard the noise, fluttering through his ears,

His coach, Marco, yelled.

“Get it together! One more round! Look at his attacks- his-“

Before he could fucking register anything, the bell had rang again.

He was not in good shape.

So was the other guy. Noah something.

..it was supposed to be challenging. Carlos’s big hyped event,

He was the big bad of the streets. Hell even winning in the competitions.

What couldn’t he do. Dirty hooks, and acute jabs, textbook punching.

But-

Carlos was better.

The El Matador.

And- that was truely decided, as Noah went in for a uppercut, as Carlos was wide open,

Suddenly,

Carlos countered, a swift left hook to the jaw.

..it was over.

Knocked out on the ground, an eight round dog fight, ending in a KO. How stupid.

Carlos huffed, his fist raised into the air by the referee,

But before he could celebrate, or even think.

Everything went blank.

As he collapsed onto the ground, Marco ran in screaming for the medics.

—

—

A few hours had passed.

Carlos groaned, rubbing at his sore eyes.

Wincing at the bruise forming, moving his hand away and blinking awa-

“How are you feeling?” Suddenly a soft voice woke him the fuck up.

..

He came face to face, with a doe eyed,

Curly haired,

Freckled, sunkissed faced boy.

.

Oh

Oh my.

“Hello? Hellooo?” The boy prodded softly, at Carlos’s sore nose, cheeks.

..Yes.

Carlos sainz, was in love.

love.

He didn’t even realise he was zoning until the bit started babbling about ‘brain injuries’ and stuff.

“Oh- sorry- hey.” He smiled.

The boy smiled back.

“How are you feeling?”

“Good.” Carlos answered immediately.

“No- great actually. Are you my doctor?”

Lando chuckled softly.

“No promotion yet. Nurse.”

“Oh. damn I’m lucky.” Carlos whispered under his breath.

Not missing the boy’s cheeks dusting pink.

.

“Well..what’s your name?” Carlos asked.

“L-Lando Norris.”