A fool's devotion was set in motion - Flick, Davis

[new-age-dawns.insanejournal.com]

In the backyard of the Vatican, Flick had set up her boxing bag. Some days she forgot it was there and would note it looking forlorn in the rain while she made coffee in the kitchen. Other days she could hardly be torn away, letting out all her energy and frustrations on that heavy dead weight. Some days she looked out there and found Davis. His arms were very distracting when he punched and she liked when he looked so focused.

She was running out of excuses to deny him what he wanted: to try being a hunter.

It wasn't that she disapproved of the lifestyle - obviously that wasn't the case, as Flick couldn't even make herself pull back from it when she tried. But hunting, as great as it was, was a career with a short lifespan, and while that always seemed okay for Flick - she'd never expected anything more - it wasn't what she wanted for Davis. Flick wanted Davis to live a long and happy life but... well, Flick wanted to be in it. And she wanted him to understand better her own life.

Dropping her hands in front of the punching bag, Flick leaned forward to press her forehead against it. Yep. Time to do it.

When she leaned in Davis' doorway she was still breathing hard, her ponytail sweaty and messy. "Do you still want to go hunting?"

Comments

[darkrain.insanejournal.com]

Davis tripped but caught himself before he could fall, spinning around as quickly as he could in case she was plowing in while his back was turned.

Alright then, how did you stop telegraphing your moves? Davis tried to put on his best poker face. He was excellent at poker. He lunged in again.