The moment Hazard called your name, you knew he was up to something.

“Alright, pair off. You’re with me,” he drawled, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he gestured you forward.

You stiffened. Out of all the people in the gang, of course, he picked you— even fresh out of a breakup, he had no shame in his passive-agression.

The others scattered, finding their own sparring partners, but Hazard stayed put, rolling his shoulders, looking entirely too pleased with himself. His knuckles cracked as he flexed his fingers. “What’s wrong? You gonna make this easy for me?”

You scoffed, stepping onto the mat. “Oh, fuck you.”

His grin widened. “Ya’ tried that once, didn’t work out.”

Your stomach twisted, but you ignored it, shoving all that history down as you raised your fists. If he wanted a fight, fine. You weren’t going to hold back.