Damon and Svetlana had just returned to their hotel, finally getting a mont to breathe after the chaos of the night. But there wasn't much ti to relax, there was a lot to go through.
Damon was now a finalist. That ant photoshoots, press conferences, and a dia tour that would rival a UFA championship event.
The tournant organizers weren't wasting any ti, they were treating the finals like the biggest fight in the world, and in a way, it was.
It made sense. Earlier in the tournant, there were 32 fighters per weight class. That ant 128 fights in the first round alone, way too many to set up full dia obligations for.
The costs, the logistics, the sheer ti it would take, it was unrealistic. So the tournant had kept dia interactions minimal in the early stages.
But now?
Now there were only two fighters left in each division.
This was where the hype mattered. This was where the sport would sell itself.
Damon sighed as he tossed his jacket onto the couch, running a hand through his hair. Svetlana sat on the edge of the bed, looking at him knowingly.
"You're about to be everywhere," she said.
Damon exhaled, a smirk forming. "Yeah… I figured."
Damon exhaled, stretching his arms behind his head as he leaned back against the hotel couch. "One more fight," he murmured. "Then we go ho."
Before he could settle, Svetlana walked toward him with a purpose. She didn't say a word, just wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug.
A very tight hug.
Damon blinked in surprise, then chuckled. "You trying to break my ribs?" He tapped her back lightly, but she didn't ease up.
Svetlana was an MMA practitioner herself—she could have made it hurt if she wanted. But this wasn't about hurting him. It was sothing else.
Damon let her hold him, then smirked. "Alright, what's this for?"
Svetlana finally pulled back just enough to look at him, her expression sharp but laced with concern. "For the stunt you pulled," she said flatly. "Look, I know I can't control what you do, and I'm not trying to, but can you at least tell ? Just sothing. Anything. You could've gotten hurt, Damon."
Damon sighed, his smirk fading just a little. "I didn't even tell Victor," he admitted.
Svetlana's eyes hardened. "I'm not my dad, Damon. I'm your partner."
Damon t her gaze, the weight of her words settling in. He let out a slow breath, nodding slightly. "Yeah… you are."
She wasn't just here to support him. She was here for him. And she deserved to know when he was about to throw himself into chaos.
She sighed, shaking her head. "Just, next ti?"
Damon smirked, leaning in slightly. "Guess you'll just have to stick around and find out."
She rolled her eyes, but the twitch of a smile on her lips told him she wasn't that mad. "You're impossible."
"And yet, here you are," he teased.
She scoffed but didn't pull away. "Damn right."
Damon watched her for a mont, then reached out, pulling her close again. This ti, there was no tension, just warmth. His hands rested on her waist, fingers brushing lightly against the fabric of her shirt.
"How about this," he said, his voice lower, more deliberate. "After all this… after the tournant, the press, the noise—" He looked her in the eyes, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "We disappear. Just us. Take so ti for ourselves. Travel the world. No caras. No fights. No bullshit."
Svetlana's eyes widened slightly, and then they softened, lighting up with excitent.
They had never done that before. Sure, they had traveled together, but it was always for fights, business, or obligations. Never just for them. The idea of escaping from it all, no schedules, no dia, no pressure, was more than appealing.
"We've never even taken a proper vacation," she murmured, almost as if realizing it for the first ti.
Damon chuckled. "Yeah, no shit."
The truth was, they could. They were both in a position where nothing really stopped them, except their own responsibilities.
Then again, those responsibilities had a way of creeping up.
Svetlana tilted her head, giving him a knowing look. "Don't you have a fight lined up after the tournant?"
Damon's smirk widened, his grip tightening slightly as he leaned in. "I do…" he admitted. "But nothing is as important as spending ti with you. So it can wait."
Svetlana felt the warmth of his words sink in. He ant it.
She smiled, shaking her head. "You're serious?"
"Dead serious," he said without hesitation. "Just say the word, and we're gone."
Her lips curled into a grin as she leaned in closer, their foreheads nearly touching. "I like the sound of that."
Damon's hands slid down her waist, pulling her flush against him. His voice dipped lower, smooth and full of suggestion.
"How about we put our energy into sothing else?" He smirked, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate patterns along her back. "I've got a lot of… unattended tension I need to release."
He tilted his head slightly, eyes locked onto hers. "Don't you?"
Svetlana exhaled, a slow smirk forming on her lips. She didn't answer right away, but the way her hands ran over his chest, gripping his jacket just a little tighter, told him everything he needed to know.
Damon pulled her in, their lips eting in a slow, heated kiss. It started soft, teasing, but quickly deepened as neither held back.
His hands road her body, tracing the curves he knew so well, while hers tangled into his hair, pulling him closer as if she couldn't get enough.
They moved together, lost in each other, their bodies pressing against the bed as the kiss grew more intense.
The world outside didn't matter. Not the tournant, not the dia, not the expectations hanging over them.
Tonight, it was just them.
Passionate. Young. Wildly in love.
And as the night stretched on, they let themselves get lost in it.
Reviews
All reviews (0)