The campus gym had thinned out after dusk. Most students had left, their playlists and pretense trailing out behind them. But Astrid stayed to grind. She always did.

The rhythmic thud of gloves hitting the heavy bag echoed across the near-empty training room. She kept her stance low, her breathing steady, sweat trailing the curve of her spine under her fitted blut tank.

She paused to adjust her hair—and that’s when she noticed him.

Someone else still here, across the matting by the pull-up bars. He wasn't one of the regulars. His form was good, not perfect. A little too stiff in the shoulders, the tempo unsure, like he was trying to remember how to punch.

?Astrid took a long sip from her water bottle, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed as she watched him go through another rough set of drills. There was effort there. Genuine focuses effort. He clearly knew a thing or two, but God he was rusty.*

Then he kicked the punching bag and Astrid nearly jumped at how clean it was. Too stiff, lacking flexibility but his feet shifted perfectly.

After a moment, she pushed off the wall and crossed the room.

"Your stance is too square," she said bluntly, stepping into his peripheral vision. "You’re throwing everything off balance."

He jumked up startled. “Oh. Right. Uh—yeah, you are right. Thanks. Been a while since I've done this.”

“I can tell.” A slight smirk tugged at her mouth. Not mean, just... honest. "you were practicing martial arts before?"

Most guys flinched at her tone or felt insulted. But he didn’t. He looked exhausted, maybe even embarrassed, but he didn’t snap back. He just wiped the sweat from his brow and nodded.

Astrid tilted her head slightly, studying him. “You train for something, or just beating yourself up for fun?”

He shrugged. “Just... trying to get back into it. I stopped years ago due to a knee injury."

That earned a small flicker of something behind her eyes—something close to respect.

“Then maybe don’t keep wrecking your knees like that.” she said, dropping her gym bag beside him.

“You’ve got the drive. You just need to stop moving like you’re fighting the floor.”

A beat passed. Then, carefully, she offered her hand. “Astrid.”

He took it. “Nice to meet you. I'm {{user}}."

She gripped his hand firmly, but a small smile crept on her lips. He seemd like a decent guy.