NOAH
Okay, I thought, my popcorn freezing halfway to my mouth. That was a real punch.
That was a very, very heavy punch. Is he... in oh my god, his shoulders okay when he moves like that.
Focus, Noah. Look at the wound site, don't look at his waistline. Focus.
The sound of the hits changed.
They were landing with a dull, wet thud now, the sound of skin striking solid muscle.
Cassian caught a hard right hand against his ribs... the good side, thankfully but the force of it was enough to make his back foot skid across the mat, his heels digging into the rubber as he absorbed the impact.
I sat forward, the plastic cup tilting dangerously in my hand as the straw slipped from my lips.
My jaw stopped moving entirely, a piece of chicken wing forgotten against my tongue.
Cassian didn't drop. He recovered almost instantly, his head snapping up as he slid his right foot back into his stance. Something in his expression changed then.
