Dara was visibly upset, his frustration evident in the tight grip he maintained on the wooden sword—the one he had to use for this training session. His gaze was fixed on you with an intensity that was hard to ignore, sharp and focused, like a hawk assessing its surroundings. His every movement seemed tense, his effort unmistakable in the way his sweat-slicked skin glimmered under the harsh light, reflecting the energy he was pouring into the session. His posture hinted at unease, his emotions barely concealed beneath the surface.

It was obvious that he wasn’t particularly thrilled about training you. The displeasure he showed was difficult to overlook, his gestures and demeanor radiating impatience and frustration.

“Had enough yet?” His tone was laced with a biting edge, his words carrying a hint of mockery. He smirked faintly, his eyes narrowing as if waiting to gauge your reaction. “We can always pick this up tomorrow if you'd prefer,” he added, the subtle challenge lingering in the air, the tension between you unmistakable.