Fighting words

Srey was contemplating murder when Riley entered the room. Some of it must have shown on her face because he stopped dead in his tracks and took a hasty step backward. 

“I didn’t do it,” he said. “I promise, it wasn’t me.”

Srey rolled her eyes and looked away from him, her eyes trained on the window. Large red letters took up most of the pane, they dripped where the paint was thickest. 

Ready for round two when you are, sweaty. It read.

“I think she might be flirting with you,” Riley said, coming up behind Srey. “Do you think she meant to write ‘sweety’ or do you have a sweating problem you haven’t told me about.”

“Shut up, Riley,” Srey growled. She combed her fingers through her short hair in frustration, the metal webbing between her thumb and pointer caught in her bangs and she yanked in frustration to free it and immediately wished she hadn’t. Now in addition to the anger curling inside her like a snake, her forehead burned slightly where some of her hair had parted from her scalp. 

“I hate her.” 

“I think the feeling may be mutual,” Srey didn’t need to turn around to know that Riley was smiling. 

“Get a grip, this isn’t some enemies-to-friends fanfiction,” Srey said. 

“No, my dear, of course not,” he patted her shoulder condescendingly, earning a swat. 

Srey turned on her heel and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?”

She glanced back at him. The words blurred over his shoulder, cutting into her reflection. Even in the faint light, her face looked pinched and angry. Her brow was furrowed, and her square jaw looked,  if possible, even stronger. Outside a couple stopped on the street peered at the window, trying to read the message backward. 

“Round two.”

***

“You came!” Aeleis beamed through the metal slot in the door. Srey glowered at her as Aeleis slammed the small window closed. From the sound of it, the door had several hundred deadbolts and locks. By the time it opened, Srey was actually tapping her foot, her arms crossed. 

The young woman on the other side of the door wore the same wide, brilliant smile. She was a head shorter than Srey, with wild black curls that framed her heart-shaped face and full lips.

At the fighting gym Aeleis wouldn’t even look at her, but now she drank Srey in as if she was memorizing every detail, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

In their first ring fight, Aeleis had looked, if anything, bored. She had even yawned after the first time she’d knocked Srey to the floor, and Srey, the reigning champion, had hit her harder for it. The stage master had shaken both of their hands after but had clapped Aeleis on the shoulder too. 

“Great job, you got her all riled up,” she’d said to Aeleis, and they’d both chucked. Aeleis had thrown a condescending look at Srey who was limping back to Riley -- Aeleis had hit her thigh muscle so hard the bruise lasted two weeks. 

“Well, you’ll be fighting her again,” Riley had said to her at the time.

“Why’s that?” Srey had asked. 

“Why’s that?” Riley had sounded incredulous. “You just fought better than Tertier Burrows, I’ve never seen you bring that kind of umph to the play-ground before.” 

“But I won,” Srey had said. “I won,” she’d said again, more firmly, when Riley had just smirked at her.

They had fought again, and again, and again. The ringmaster seemed determined, and Srey lost more than she ever had. She hated it, considered trying to find a new gym, hiring a hitman, bribing Aeleis, but decided it was better to settle her grievances in the ring. And sometimes off of it. 

“Don’t look so pouty,” Aeleis said. “You act like I skinned your cat. Come in, if you think you can handle it.” She winked at Srey infuriatingly and swung her hips as she walked down the dark hallway. Fuming, her teeth bared so hard the muscles on the side of her face burned, Srey followed, slamming the heavy iron door closed behind her. 

“Do you want anything to drink?” Aeleis called over her shoulder. She had rounded a bend in the tunnel-like hallway and her voice echoed strangely off the black walls. 

“No.” Srey said, pausing to let her eyes adjust to the gloom. “Where’s your team?” 

“Gave them the night off,” came Aeleis’ reply from somewhere in front of Srey. “Thought we could do this just us two, you don’t mind? I see you didn’t bring Riley.” A laugh ghosted down the hall. “Maybe you wanted some alone time with me too.”

“That’s not -- He didn’t -- I wanted --” Srey spluttered. “I didn’t bring him because this is between you and me, you freak. Now stop hiding and let’s get this over with.”

“Not hiding, just being a pleasant host,” Aeleis said. “Besides, who said I want to get it over with?”

Srey, her vision returned to near normal, growled. Aeleis laughed again. Srey’s anger flared and she strode forward, rounding the bend in the hall that Aeleis had disappeared behind. 

Aeleis’ first blow knocked Srey off her feet and into the wall. She raised her fingers to her cheekbone, which smarted from where the shorter woman had hit her. Aeleis was smiling, looking down at Srey. 

“There you go again, charging in before you’ve taken in the environment. You’re sweet, you kn--”

Srey cut her off by kicking her legs out from under her. Down Aeleis went, her head smacking the ground, Srey looming over her, the promise of a bruise flowering under her eye. 

“You talk too much,” Srey said and brought her metal fist down on the hard-packed earth where Aeleis had been moments before. Aeleis rolled sideways, pinwheeling her legs to keep a healthy distance between herself and the taller woman and Srey dodged out of their way. Both jumped to their feet, panting slightly, exhilarated. Srey was grinning now too. Aeleis charged her and Srey ducked to help her over her bent back. Aeleis landed in a shower of dust, but didn’t seem winded, although there was a long scrape on her forehead. She was back on her feet, fists at the ready. Again she came, and Srey was ready for her. They’d danced like this so often she was used to the other woman’s fighting pattern, knew when to step back and dodge and lunge. This, this she loved. 

Today Aeleis was all flying fists, she knocked Srey to the ground once, twice, four times. The second ripped Srey’s shirt. Looking for an inch under Aeleis’ guard Srey made the mistake of looking into Aeleis’ eyes. Trying to read them she slipped and Aeleis’ next hit took her down with Aeleis on top of her. Legs tangled, they rolled, coming to rest when Aeleis pinned Srey’s legs down, and dodging Srey’s last punch.

Inches apart, their faces red and sweating, the two women locked eyes. Srey felt Aeleis’ minty breath on her face. For one ludicrous moment, Srey wondered if she should have washed her teeth before coming. Some of the uncertainty must have played in her eyes and Aeleis leaned even further forward, their limbs still locked together. Aeleis’ nose brushed Srey’s, she was millimeters from her. Surely, Srey though, surely Aeleis would lean back and declare victory. She would rise to her feet and aim a kick at Srey that she would dodge. They would return to their rooms and plan retribution, have their teams patch up their cut lips and Aeleis’ bleeding forehead. Any moment now, Aeleis would push her roughly as she untangled her legs and rose. 

But Aeleis did not move. Seconds stretched by, and Aeleis stared into Srey’s eyes. There was a curiosity rising behind her eyes, and Srey was frozen under her, unable to move or look away. It was like watching a cat stalk its prey, eyes going large and round in concentration and slowly, ever so slowly, inch forward until there was to be no escape. Srey’s instincts were screaming at her to struggle, to hit her, even to run, and yet she was held, tense and spellbound. The heat from Aeleis’ body pressed into her own, an inch of Aeleis’ belly pressed against the spot where Srey’s shirt had ripped. She was so close Srey could feel her heartbeat against her ribcage.

Bit by bit, ever so slowly, Aeleis moved closer still until her lips pressed against Srey’s. Srey felt as if Aeleis had hit her again, she was falling backward through the floor into darkness, the only tether the other woman’s lips on her own. And just as suddenly as they appeared, they were gone. Srey opened her eyes, although she couldn’t remember closing them. Aeleis was still hovering over her, her face close to Srey’s. 

Srey’s instincts took over. Aeleis had relaxed. Srey swung her leg behind Aeleis’ knee and heaved so that Aeleis fell, heavily, onto her back. Srey jumped to her feet, her blood roaring in her ears. Aeleis was still on the ground. She was looking up at Srey, unsmiling, eyes wide. For one heart-stopping moment Srey thought Aeleis was going to reach her hand up to be helped up. But the smaller woman was only leaning up on her forearms, watching Srey. There was a trickle of blood leaking down her nose. 

An inner corner of Srey told her it had been a ploy, a diversion, to get under her skin at the same time her logical brain wondered why Aeleis wasn’t gloating. If it was indeed a trick, Aeleis was an awfully good actor. Well, two could play at that game. Srey hesitated, then stretched out her arm which Aeleis accepted just as cautiously. Once standing, Srey didn’t drop Aeleis’ arm. She pulled the smaller woman closer so that their noses were almost touching. The air stilled. Then, in one swift movement, Srey hooked her ankle around Aeleis’ knee and pulled. Aeleis, unsuspecting, fell again, smacking the ground hard. But this time, when she looked up at Srey, who was moving towards the door, she was grinning.