gloved hands connected with the punching bag, a rapid and mindless motion that relieved frustrations and assisted in revealing the suppressed emotions (i.e. anger, fear, et cetera). sweat rolled down his cheek, dropping from his chin and landing on his unprotected arm. muscles rippled as he threw his weight into the exercise routine, and the repetitive sequence reminded the dark haired fighter of life. life took unpredictable twists and turns, but on a daily basis, the routine remained the same, unchanged by the looming events of the future. dragomir ended his routine with visits to the local gym, pounding out his frustrations against a punching bag and helping reaffirm his control over his temper—which raged unexpectedly and uncontrollably when evoked. while in the gym, he did not need to linger on his cases or the future. he only catered to himself, acting selfishly as he obliterated equipment and watched the tension melt away from his tanned frame.

the punching bag swung idly as his movements ceased, gloved hands catching the bright red object and holding it in place. his sweaty forehead connected with the item and utilized it as support. breaths exited his frame in audible pants, chest heaving and shoulders moving up and down with each intake and exhale. light glinted off the sheen of sweat, and due to his lack of shirt, his entire upper body seemed to glow. his features twisted into a faint expression of distaste as he backed away from the boxing equipment, one glove disappearing between his arm and side as he yanked his hand out of the confining object. with one hand free, he easily removed the other glove and tossed both into his open duffel bag. clothes were visible underneath the gloves and unopened water bottle; however, he made a beeline for the pristine white towel that rested on the nearby bench.

rough fabric pressed against his skin as he rubbed the item against his face and then draped the towel around his neck, body leaning down as he grabbed his water bottle. he greedily consumed the chilled liquid and absentmindedly wiped away the excess water upon emptying the bottle of its contents. upon returning the object to the bag, crimson hued eyes roved over the gym, watching in indifference as other people milled about the space. due to the late hour, few people traversed the large room, providing the ravenette with a sense of privacy. he supposed the distance between the gym and elatha’s dwelling kept people from venturing to the establishment at late hours, for robbers and crooks lined the distance between the apartment complex and sparsely cultivated new moon district. one hand shifted to grab an end of the towel, pressing the fabric against his cheek as he scooped up his bag with his other hand. the strap bit into his shoulder, but the familiar weight did not hinder his movements as he pivoted to face the hallway, which led to the restrooms and showers.

thirty minutes later, dragomir exited the gym, bag resting on his shoulder and body hidden underneath baggy clothing. a yawn forced his mouth open as he began walking toward the apartment complex, and in the safety of his mind, he contemplated purchasing dinner from one of the restaurants in the crescent moon district. the red light district gathered both negative and positive attention from the public due to its insistence upon catering to even the wildest and strangest fantasies of the populace; however, in the end, the dark haired male wanted the comfort of his own bed. his pace remained steady as another yawn escaped him, eyes closing due to the strength of the unexpected and forced exhale of air. in that brief moment of inattention, he felt another body collide with his own. ruby red hued eyes snapped open as he instinctively caught the male’s wrist, assisting the smaller male in maintaining his balance and watching the bags of groceries collide with the ground. be fucking careful, he grunted with his gaze still locked on the inanimate objects, his conscious urging him to help the blonde.