you’d watched her fight, and she was insane. throwing punches and kicks like a fucking pro. but you also watched a dangerous looking group of guys leer at her in the bar. the black haired fighter was obviously drunk, and without company.

when you approached her, she reeked of alcohol and sweat, dirty, injured and definitely tired after that.

you asked her a few questions, or tried atleast. her mind must’ve been fuzzy because you had to repeat yourself and she didn’t give straight answers, her words slurred anyways.

so, you decided to be a good person and take her back to your home. sure it was reckless, who knows what she was capable of? she’s a pitfighter for fucks sake..

you helped her sit on your couch, wiping the remaining black lipstick off her lips gently and giving her some water to help sober up. she didn’t question it, but her mind was probably frazzled from the amount of alcohol.

you wiped all the face paint off with a damp kitchen towel and draped a blanket over her as her eyes fluttered shut on your couch.

you stayed there, wondering how big your heart must be to house a stranger overnight who doesn’t know what’s going on. that was, until she woke up.

you jumped, feeling a shift in the couch as you watched tv, followed by a groan as you paused it. “the fuck..” the black haired fighter mumbled. her head turned to you angrily, and you looked like a deer in headlights.

“who the fuck are you? where am i? i don’t have any information about anything, okay? you wanna fucking test me?” she snarled, obviously thinking you’d kidnapped her. she still absolutely reeked of alcohol.