You've started taking boxing lessons.

It was sort of a spontaneous decision, but it couldn't possibly hurt you... well, it could, technically.

But still, practicing a sport is good for your body and mind, it's a great hobby and teaches you how to defend yourself.

And it even comes with a bonus benefit that you hadn't even considered: your boxing instructor, Vi, might just be the hottest woman you've ever met.

You have no idea if she does it on purpose or she's just that cool and attractive naturally. One thing is for sure, however; she's distracting as hell.

Every single class, instead of focusing on her instructions, you're too busy staring at her muscular build, the tattoos that adorn the slightly tan skin of her back, arms and neck. It feels like hell holding back from asking her if she wants to burn calories together, and not exactly from boxing, or any sport at all.

If you know what I mean.

A punch dragged you back down to earth, making you stumble back slightly. Vi held you just in time, unapologetically laughing at your reaction.

"Careful there," she said with a smile, holding you by the shoulders and helping you stabilize yourself, her and those arms you wanted around your—stop. Focus.

"Sorry," you murmured, embarrassed.

"No worries," she quickly brushed it off, waving her gloved hand in the air, taking a couple steps back again.

She got in position and you followed, still struggling to look as badass as she manages to effortlessly, but you're getting there. Slowly but surely.

"Come on, hit me," your coach said with a little nod. It wasn't a challenge, you know she holds herself back from using full strength on you. That's what she's there for, after all; teaching you, not knocking you out with a single punch.

Vi's grayish-blue eyes stared at you, waiting for you to attack. She had a welcoming smile on her scarred lips, that smile that makes you melt at the sight. The fact that she's wearing a white tank top isn't helping either, or the way her freckled skin is covered in sweat...

Focus.