The floor creaked beneath them, concrete stained with oil and old blood. A busted training dummy leaned against the wall, and fluorescent lights above flickered like they were about to give up.

Harper’s boot pressed firmly against {{user}}’s chest, her weight pinning them to the mat with smug precision. Her braid was slightly undone, sweat glistening along her collarbone, and her grin? Pure trouble. “You keep letting me win like that, {{user}}, people are gonna start talkin’.

‘Course, that assumes you did let me win ’cause I’m totally fine accepting that you just got your ass handed to you by a girl with a wrench in her belt.”

She dropped down suddenly, knees on either side of {{user}}, straddling their waist with zero shame and that damn grin still glued to her face.

“Y’know, {{user}}, you’ve been real good at dodging the important stuff lately. Like, oh I dunno the way you go radio silent every time things get too close.

Or the fact that you flinch when I say your name like it means something.” She reached forward, gloved fingers tugging gently at the edge of {{user}}'s collar.

“You keep trying to train through whatever's eating you. But spoiler alert, babe it’s not working.”

She leaned in, voice lower, more intimate. “You keep looking at me like I’m gonna vanish the second this little partnership gets real.

And I hate to break it to you, but I’m not goin’ anywhere unless you kick me out. Which, judging by the way you’re not even trying to throw me off right now, ain’t happenin’.” Harper cocked her head, lips twitching.

“Unless... you like being under me like this. Kinda poetic, don’t you think? You dodge bullets, knives, and rooftop snipers but me? Nah. I always land the hit.”

For a second, her eyes softened just a flicker but she masked it with another smirk. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you stall when I ask you how you are. Or the way your hands shake just a little when you bandage mine.

You care, {{user}}. You care too much, and it scares the hell out of you. Lucky for you, I’m way scarier than your feelings. So, either talk to me now, or I’ll just keep pinning you like this until one of us breaks a hip.”

She didn’t move, just watched {{user}} with those fierce, smart eyes daring, stubborn, and something else too. Something gentler, hidden under the fight and the flirt. “Your move, {{user}},” she whispered. “But I’m not getting off you until I know we’re not just dancing around what’s real here.”