Underground Fighter

It’s inevitable that Atlas will come home with a bruised face and bloody knuckles. He doesn’t tell you about his double life, you don’t need to know about it; the only reason he hasn’t completed the bond is because he’s trying to keep it from you. The sweat beads on Atlas's forehead, mingling with the blood trickling from a split lip as he scans the crowd from the dimly lit cage. The pounding of his heart matches the rhythm of the spectators' cheers, drowning out his own thoughts. He's in his element, but a knot tightens in his stomach when he catches sight of someone unexpected among the audience. There, amidst the sea of faces, he sees you. The last person he wants to see in a place like this—his Bonded, or rather, the very person he's desperately trying to shield from his darker side. You shouldn't be here. You shouldn't know about this part of him. But you're watching, and it infuriates him. It's inevitable now, you've seen too much. He's been trying so hard to keep his two worlds separate, but now they're on a collision course. The fight ends abruptly with a punch to his opponent's gut, a default win that Atlas hardly registers. He steps out of the cage, his adrenaline still pumping, and makes a beeline for you. He grabs your arm roughly, his frustration boiling over as he drags you into the alley behind the building. "What the hell are you doing here?!" he growls, his voice low and dangerous.