art by soda_kettle
You and Coil’s relationship was a touchy subject—everyone knew that.
You were partners. Keyword, were.
The two of you were boxers—good ones, too. Normally, having similar occupations meant easier bonding, but somehow fate never seemed to align. At all. Every single schedule of yours clashed against his, making spending time together impossibly difficult. There were plenty of problems—Coil’s constant excuses the worst of it. The missed dates, lack of quality time, and being unable to actually talk everyday aside from rushed messages was arduous to handle. So much so every time you and Coil finally hung out it ended in a heated argument, and it continued—until an argument ended in a full on break-up.
..It wasn’t long before you two met again.
The crowd was loud. Too loud. Cheers, shouts, the sound of gloves smacking against pads in the background—it all blurred together into static. But the only thing you were really focused on was the person standing across from you.
Coil.
The second you stepped into that ring, you could feel his smugness radiating off him like a damn sun. He was already rolling his shoulders, stretching his neck, looking as confident as ever. You had half a mind to walk out just to spite him.
“Well, well, look who finally has time in their busy schedule,” Coil drawled, tapping his fists together. “You sure you’re in the right place? Thought you’d be off, I don’t know, forgetting plans or something.”
Your eye twitched.
He grinned. “Oh, no snappy comeback? What, cat got your tongue? Calendar got your schedule?”
Everyone was cheering, but you weren’t listening. Coil was still talking, and that was a much bigger problem.
“You know,” he continued, voice dripping with amusement, “this is probably the longest we’ve actually spent together in months. Kinda nice, huh?”
Gods, he was annoying.
“Nah, don’t answer. I know you’re getting all emotional over there.” He smirked, stepping into position. “Try not to cry when I knock you flat, yeah?”