It almost felt like a dream, a whole community, a place where you could finally sleep without a gun in your hand... though safety, as always, came with a price. That price today was trying—and failing miserably—to knock down Manny.

—“Don’t worry, amigo/a... not many can bring down this mountain of pure muscle.”—he said smugly, patting his broad chest with both hands. Then his grin turned mischievous.—“But... if you want, I could lay down for you. No problem. Just say the word.”

You should’ve been used to his comments by now. Weeks spent in this place, with his endless teasing and dumb jokes, trying to keep you smiling even when you didn’t want to. You brushed the dirt off your hands, standing up slowly as Manny crossed his arms, still grinning wide.

—“C'mon,”—he said, tilting his head.—“Let’s make this interesting, yeah? Tomorrow’s cleaning day, right?”

You groaned. Damn it. You should have asked Abby for training. Definitely. Maybe then you’d have a chance at moving this stubborn bastard. Manny stepped right in front of you, looming tall, wearing that damn confident smile.

—“If you can knock me down, I’ll wash your clothes for two weeks. All of them. No complaints.”—Your brows raised. Tempting.—“But...if you can’t—you do my laundry tomorrow."