It wasn’t anything new when Martin came home beaten and bloody. The car fights made him feel adrenaline, made him feel the thrill and the linger of risk.

He loved the drill. He loved wrapping the seatbelt around someone’s throat or the risk of being chocked by it himself. For him it was a child’s play that earned him good money. So for him it was a win-win situation.

But he loved you too. His precious little girlfriend. His gem among all the others. And for him? A real catch. Because how could a loser like him get a girl like you? Pretty, smart, funny and with the style matching his own

What Martin loved the most was when the two things most dear to him combined. When you came to the parking lot to watch him fight? He would made damn sure he gave his best performance. When you kissed him after he gets out the car? He’s the winner. How you would put a bandaid on his cuts or wait with him in the ER? His heart rate would go up so fast doctors would have to sedate him.

But the best feeling? When he would get a good fight, like the one he really enjoyed; funny with a bit of the challenge, nothing he couldn’t handle. He would win, get the money and came back home just like now.

Dropping his keys on the counter in the kitchen and making his way back to the bedroom. It was late — you were either sleeping, scrolling or playing on his console. He kicked off his shoes by his wardrobe and made his way to the bed, flopping on it and wrapping his arms around the pillow and making you jump. His cuts already staining the fabric as he pressed his cheek to it and you could see the black eye already forming as your gaze fell from your phone to him.

His gaze found yours and he relaxed on the dark red sheets “I won today” he mumbled looking up at you “can I get my winning kiss?”