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The worst thing is that a part of me wouldn’t even mind this. Only, I would get used to it. I would become so accustomed to his presence that the lack of it would be unbearable. That is why it’s better to keep my distance from him, if such a thing is even possible.
“That is why I have a suggestion,” he announces, stepping in front of me.
“What is it?” I immediately ask, mostly because his closeness is affecting me in ways I don’t want to admit.
“I want to show you some defense moves which you can use,” he explains, “in case I am not around, or you are alone for whatever reason, and someone attacks you. You need to be able to defend yourself.”
I think about it for a moment. “That’s actually not a bad idea.”
“See?” he smirks. “I’m not such a bad guy. I just pretend to be.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” I tease.
Then, I immediately bite my tongue. It’s not safe to tease him. It is not safe for me, for my heart. They won’t be here forever. They will be gone. More importantly, he will be gone. He won’t take me with him, and I won’t ask to be taken. I need to shield my heart from being hurt.
“How far would you go then?” he teases me back, but I decide to cut it right here.
“How about we focus on the task at hand?” I ask instead.
I can see he wasn’t expecting me to say that. I even feel a little bad, because we obviously both want to flirt. It’s just that I can’t. I don’t dare to. It’s bad enough that I have to be by his side, but I don’t have to add flirting to it. I need to set a clear boundary between us, and everything should be fine.
“Well, OK,” he starts, clearing his throat a little. “The best way to protect yourself is to run away. We all know that. You need to be aware of your surroundings at all times, especially now that everyone in town is your enemy. They all think you’re a traitor. Another option is to try and diffuse the situation by talking, which again, in your situation won’t do much. In other words, sometimes running away and talking your way out of a situation just isn’t possible.” He pauses here, letting it all sink in. Then, he continues. “If you have to fight, you use your elbows and knees. Not your fists. Got it?”
I nod, as he’s grabbing me by the elbows, pulling me closer. Then, he wraps his fingers around my hand. It fits perfectly in his.
“Contrary to what you believe or were told, fist fighting is not what you want to do, unless your plan is to break your hand,” he explains. “If your attacker gets close enough to you, you use your elbows and knees. You hit them where it hurts, got it?”
I nod again. He points down between his crotch.
“You aim for the guy’s junk,” he instructs. “That’s the easiest one. He’ll fall down to his knees if you do it properly, then another knee kick in the jaw and you’re able to run away. I doubt he’ll be getting up soon after that.”
Then, he takes a step back, releasing my hand from his.
“If you’re able to stay at a safe distance from your attacker, use your legs to fight him off,” he continues explaining. “Your legs are longer than your arms, so that gives you better chances of landing a kick without him being close enough to do anything in return. You’ll be able to kick him harder.”
Once again, he takes a step close to me and grabs me by the hand. He puts it right on his face, with my palm wide open. I can see his eyes between my fingers. My heart is beating wildly. I don’t know why I find this so hot, but I do.
“Again, if you’re unable to keep your distance from someone, don’t punch him… or her,” he corrects himself, probably remembering Gala’s group and how she was the ring leader, “with your fist. You might break a bone or something, and you might not even hit that hard. Instead, slap.”
“Slap?” I frown.
“Mhm,” he nods. “Strike your opponent with your open palm or even better, scratch them.”
“I knew that myself,” I chuckle.
“What do you need me for then?” he teases again, and I see he’s constantly back to that line that I don’t want crossed. But every time he nears it, I follow obediently.
“Duh,” I playfully roll my eyes. “To teach me something I don’t know.”
“Well, how about if someone grabs you like this?” he asks, taking me completely off guard by slamming me against the tree and rendering me completely immobile.
His knee is standing firmly between my legs, his thigh almost rubbing against my aching, throbbing spot but it’s like he knows I want him to touch me there, so he doesn’t. One hand is around my neck, gently keeping me in place, although making it impossible for me to move. His other hand somehow managed to grab both mine and is now keeping them behind my back. I don’t even know how this happened, in a blink of an eye.
We’re staring each other down, breathing so closely we can feel the warmth of the other one’s breath.
“That wasn’t fair,” I point out, unwilling to look away for even a single moment.
“Life isn’t fair,” he corrects me. “If someone attacks you, is that what you’re gonna say? That wasn’t fair?”
