[MythicDusk]

Flint frowned softly, his arms holding his girlfriend close, hushing her softly as he combed his fingers through her hair. "I know, but-" His words caught in his throat, his jaw clenching as he let out a soft sigh, one that made his shoulder sag as he looked back down to the woman in his arms.

"I want to, Fee. I like fighting. I like doing it." He chewed on his bottom lip, thinking for a moment, watching the woman in his arms shift as she breathed, listening to intently to him. He carefully ran his fingers down her spine once again, frowning gently.

[MythicDusk]

Ophelia felt her shoudlers sag under his hands, under his gentle, caressing touches, under the weight of his words. She licked her lips carefully, pulled back, looked up into his bruised and repeatedly broken face, to those soft eyes that she fell so in love with, so long ago.

"But why?"

She felt her throat constrict into a croak, felt her hands ball into fists again, felt her jaw clench. "Cant you, I don't know, box? Do something other than illegal street brawls that could end with you killed?" She felt a sob rock through her, she knew what he was going to say. They had talked about this so many times after all.

[MythicDusk]

His arms tensed as she pulled away, as shel ooked into his face with so much hurt in her gentle eyes. She didn't deserve this. Flint felt his shoulders sag.

"I'm too violent for any professional sports, Fee. I lose control and I hurt people, and I hurt people bad." He opened his hands, palm-up, as if showing her he meant no harm to her, right in this moment. "Its why I never want you to come to my fights. You know this, Fee." He slowly closed his hands, letting his fingernails dig into his palms. "I don't want you to see me hurting someone."

[MythicDusk]

She knew. Of course she knew. She had known this man for years now. Knew him inside and out. She knew the more violent tendencies he carried around, knew how controlled and careful he was around her. How softly he held her. Of course she knew.

But it still ached to hear. It was an admittance of danger, of being a danger to himself and her. It was one of the reasons they didnt want kids. One of the reasons Flint didn't want to get married. He didn't want to lose control and hurt her.

She remembered when he made her promise that the moment he lost control she would leave him and run. She could still remember the tear-streaked face.

[MythicDusk]

Flint knew what she was thinking, wondering how he could ever be violent to her, knew that she was wracking her brain over it, letting the memory of his tear-streaked face resurface, to plaster over the beast of his anger.

The thought made him want to cry.

He had never shown Ophelia that side of him, never swung his fists in the house, never hurt her, never set out to hurt her.  He never grabbed her arm until she bruised. He supposed he was better than his father in that way, at least. After all, he was the one who had trained the bloodlust into him.

[Wild Pet Found]