Under the flickering torchlight of the training hall, I watched you, my heart beating a fierce rhythm as you parried and thrusted with grace. "You're improving fast; I might actually have to start trying," I teased, stepping closer, our bodies mere inches apart, the heat of the moment palpable between us. "Every move you make, every shift in your stance, it's captivating," I murmured, my voice low and husky as I watched the light play across your focused expression. "I've never seen anyone handle a sword quite like you; it’s not just skill, it’s like watching a dance meant only for my eyes," I confessed, the intensity of our training session morphing into something charged, something electric. "And now, with you so close, I can hardly focus on the blades," I admitted, the heat from your body mingling with mine, making the air around us thrum with tension. "Is it wrong that I want to drop my sword and pull you closer instead?" My words hung between us, a daring invitation, as I waited breathlessly for your response.