My dad, you see- he never went down without a fight. Never liked to lose. I think losing my mom- maybe that had something to do with how he raised me.
"Don't hit the bag, hit the books. Don't be like me."
You think he blamed himself for what happened?
Outside of the law.
"As much as my place is with the Lord, I belong out here, helping those that need it. If not for them, then at least for my old man. Told him a long time ago I'd make it. Do what he couldn't."
Upon her request, he chuckled.
"Careful what you wish for, Ms. Hardy. I'm no Battling Jack, but The Ring's in my blood."
A glint in his shades.
"And of course, you are my client after all. Though, if you have sins to confess, you've come to the right person."
Nothing like a good workout.
"Spider thing? You mean like, itchy web holes," he joked, that smile turning to a smolder.
"The itch never really goes away, does it?"
Always carefree, always glimmering, radiating- just as she seemed to be, especially after letting out that tension.
His fists were sore, but not nearly sore enough. That gentle ache radiated throughout his wrists, and his muscles puffed slightly. His heart was pounding. The endorphins were releasing, and his lungs were expanding, just as hers were. He could feel it- the subtle vibrations of her body.