ARC VI

    ARC VI

    ⋮ ⌗ ┆the first i love you.

    ARC VI
    c.ai

    They’d closed the gym an hour ago, but the lights were still on—two buzzing fluorescents caged in wire, throwing that grainy white that made sweat look like frost. The ring sat in the center like a sleeping animal. Chalk dust hung in the air. The place smelled of leather and old tape and the iron bite of blood that never quite washed out of canvas.

    Vi sat on the apron with her boots on the floor, elbows on her knees, hand wraps half-undone. She’d showered, but it hadn’t taken; the day still clung to her skin. She pulled at a loose thread until it split, then rolled it between her fingers as if friction alone could spark words.

    You were a step above her on the apron, legs swinging, a towel draped over your shoulders. You weren’t looking at your phone. You were just… there. The way you always were when she hit a wall and pretended she hadn’t.

    “You ever think,” Vi said, eyes fixed on the floor, “that if you say a thing out loud it stops being… yours?”

    You didn’t answer. You never filled a silence just to kill it. That was one of the first things about you that had cut her open in a way she didn’t know how to close again.

    She dragged a palm over her face. “I’m bad at this.”

    “Talking.” She flicked her gaze up—quick, guilty, gone. “Everything in me’s built for impact. All these years I figured if I kept moving, if I kept swinging, I wouldn’t have to—”

    She broke off. The words were already too close to the bone. She felt that old instinct uncoil in her—the temptation to smirk, to say something cheap and easy and mean enough to push you back a step. Distance was safe. Distance kept people alive. She could do distance with her eyes closed.

    But you were sitting there with your stupid calm, your knees bumping the rope every time your feet swung, and she was so tired of safe she could choke on it.

    She exhaled like someone had cut a cord. The weight in her chest shifted. Pain was simple; you could put your back into it. This—this was a door you opened without knowing what was on the other side.

    “I love you,” Vi said.