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the gym ; monday afternoon

It felt like it'd been awhile since Flick had been down to the gym. In reality, it hadn't been that long and he'd been getting exercise other ways but still, it was time to fall back into that routine so he didn't end up getting too doughy and soft. He'd save those moments for when he was behind closed doors.

Usually, he defaulted to flat out boxing when it came to the gym and the heavy bag but he was going a little different today. The Brazilian jujitsu classes he'd taken back at the academy had been in his head lately so that's what he was using today. It meant using his body differently, working muscles that didn't tend to get worked as much when he was just flat out punching the crap out of something or someone.

Which didn't take away how much he liked just punching the crap of some people, of course. It was a good time. He just felt like switching it up. He figured he'd slide into Krav Maga techniques in awhile just to keep that side of things fresh as well.

And then maybe he'd go to straight boxing. End with the fun stuff, why not?

[Open gym, open post]

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And Isabelle was going to give him a look, and then make an attempt to move past him.

Since they were being stubborn now.

Flick moved with her, still trying to block her path. He held up both hands in front of him to assist with the whole 'stopping her from leaving' thing.

"Come on," he said, using a softer tone now. "Just talk to me, Isabelle. What's wrong?"

He could be stubborn and still be soft at the same time.

Isabelle rolled her eyes in an almost (yet not quite) exaggerated manner, and swatted at his hands so he'd at least put those down.

"Aren't you supposed to be offering to help me clean the blood off my face?"

There wasn't anything he was supposed to do. But if he wanted any answers, he was going to have to take them in the form in which she gave them.

Flick did put his hands down after batting at her hands in retaliation briefly. They fell slack to his sides.

"I can help you clean up, yeah," Flick told her easily, not remarking on how he wasn't supposed to be doing anything. "I didn't offer because I wasn't sure you wanted any help. But, I'd like to help you out, sure."

It was sincere and he nodded at her. "If you don't wanna stare at my gross face, you're probably gonna have to help out here too, though. Because I'm gross."

"Obviously." This was where she would've usually smirked, but she didn't quite get there. Not as brightly and smugly as usual, anyway. "I was expecting you to offer, you know."

There was a sliver of truth in that, although she was playing it off like a joke.

"Silly me, boys are dumb like that."

See?

"You do remember how many shots to the head I just took, right?" Flick asked, answering her joke with one of his own. He still felt a little bad though so he stepped closer to her and tried to reach for one of her hands.

They were alone in the gym so it wasn't like anyone would witness the act. "Boys are dumb like that. Or the boy in question didn't realize. So, I'm offering now. Let me help you clean yourself up. And then I'll probably fall asleep in your bed or something because I can."

Still joking just a little. He smiled slightly. "I'm sorry I didn't offer. I'll make it up to you."

She let him take his hand. There was no one watching so she even gave his hand a squeeze, although she didn't acknowledge the whole action with anything even as much as a glance down.

"As you should," she told him with a firm nod. Much more comfortable being a arrogant jerk now. Regardless of her aching face. And various other body parts. "It was very hurtful and sloppy of you."

And Flick squeezed her hand back but kept his eyes on hers. He wouldn't tell anyone that she'd squeezed his hand, she could rest assured.

"I'm sorry," he told her, letting her be the arrogant one while he sought penance for his mortal sins. "I didn't mean to be hurtful and sloppy. What can I do to make it up to you? Helping you clean up is a given."

"You could spend a while with me."

And probably watch her burn a healing Mark into her skin. It wouldn't take long. She had a half-finished iratze on her arm for this exact purpose, always. Her kind got hurt a lot.

She brushed her free hand back through her hair, then touched her cheek gingerly. And wrinkled her nose when that felt like unpleasant pressure.

Then, did nothing when that hurt. "Maybe tell me an amusing story or two."

She was such a confusing person. But, that was kept to himself.

"I can do that. I'll spend as much time with you as you'd like," he said because his agenda was pretty clear the rest of the day. "I'll need to shower. You should join me in that one. It's for the sake of water conservation." Uh huh. "And then, I'd just need to stop off at the common room and get some ice."

Because he didn't get to burn healing marks in his skin and his nose and head were aching.

"Would you let me lay around on your bed afterward?" Because yeah, he was sore too. "I've got a lot of stories I can tell you. You've heard a lot of the depressing stuff but my life isn't totally like that. I can tell you about the frat boys I've stolen stuff from and tales from my time living on the street."

Isabelle knew she was confusing. About half of that was purely on purpose.

She nodded. "You can lay around on my bed," she promised. "In fact, I insist." For relaxing reasons. Closeness was relaxing, even when done carefully so as not to hurt the sore parts too much. "Just like I'd insist on no depressing stories."

"I won't tell you anything depressing," he promised. "I've got good stories. Stories about Jude that I like. Or stuff from when I was in military school. Or hanging around New York like a homeless person."

The biggest parts of him were depressing but he had a good chunk of amusing stuff. He glanced down at his shirt and then remembered something else.

"And I might need a change of clothes unless you just want me to lay around in my shorts, regaling you with stories of my misspent youth."

She wasn't going to comment on how even some of his good stories involved homelessness. She trusted his judgment with this one thing.

And she shrugged a shoulder. "You might as well lay around in your shorts," she said, finally getting a little closer to her usual cheekiness. "Or you can go get something from your room. Or I can lend you something of Raleigh's."

Who clearly did not get a say in anything.

Well, teenage runaway and all.

"I'm not gonna wear your roommate's stuff," he told her, shaking his head. "That'd just be strange."

And he wasn't much of a poofy sweater guy. He'd leave that to Raleigh's expertise.

"I'll lay around in my shorts and if I get cold, I'll go get something from my room," he decided. "You'll just have to help me keep warm."

"I can do that." She just couldn't promise she wouldn't poke at his injured parts. Terrible person like that. "As long as you'll do the same for me."

She didn't need to be kept warm.

"I'll stay close to you, share my body heat," Flick promised, refraining from saying she'd get the cuddling she seemed to want. See how smart he was? So smart.

He gave her hand another squeeze. "So, you've got me for as long as you want me. Promise."

He was so very smart.

"Okay." She nodded, and gave his hand a tug. Before letting go of it. "Then, let's go, Flick. Let's see if we can frighten a few mundies on the way."

With their bloody faces.

"You're such a sweet person," he said, laughing a little before getting his feet moving towards the door. "I'm good with terrifying a few people."

And smeared blood on skin and clothing was definitely an easy way to do that.

"Sounds like fun."

"It is."

As long as they didn't run into any responsible adult types on the way and get questioned over what the hell happened. Ah, well. Only one way to find out.

And that was to head out of the gym and face the outside world.

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the gym ; monday afternoon

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