He watched you. Watched you stare down your opponent, your eyes sharp enough to cut somebody. You were about to fight a two-year champion, and you didn’t even look frightened in the slightest bit. You looked excited, eager to get the fight started with. There was so much tension in the ring, the crowd was shouting and yelling.

The bell rang, and you put your fists up, covering your face. He sized you up, watching you block and dodge every kick, jab, and punch your opponent would throw at you. You were tiring her out. Smart. She threw a right hook, and you easily parried the attack, shoving her arm away.

He could sense you getting impatient, the way you sighed heavily when your opponent wouldn’t do anything, how you’d lick your bottom lip as you scanned her. The crowd gasped in surprise as you shot a fast punch into her jaw, knocking her onto the floor. The referee started counting. It was only the first round, yet you’ve already had your opponent winded.

You won. An easy win, you hardly looked tired. You beat that other girl to the mat, slamming her into the floor every round. Eren stood up, grabbing your water bottle from beside his chair and climbing into the ring to grin at you. The crowd was going wild, paparazzi taking photos of you any chance they could.

“Look at you go, baby.” He said with a smirk, squiring some water into your mouth.