I Hate Training (Last Part)

"That's for giving me mixed signals," Sofia said, her voice barely louder than a whisper—just enough for Matthew to hear, but not for Ace.

A sudden sucker punch caught Matthew off guard, slamming into his nose.

"Fuck," he muttered, clutching his nose with one hand as the sharp sting spread across his face.

[She got you good.]

"She got you good," Ace shouted with a laugh.

Before Matthew could respond, Sofia followed up with a spinning high kick. This time, he dodged it, stepping back just in time.

Matthew's instincts kicked in as he ducked under Sofia's spinning kick. The force of her leg sliced through the air just inches from his face. He backed away, lowering his hands into a defensive stance.

"Sofia, what the hell?" he asked, still holding his throbbing nose. "What is wrong with you?!" 

"You know exactly what," she snapped, already repositioning herself. Her green eyes were sharp, filled with something between anger and hurt.

[Careful. She's faster than she looks.] Elliott's voice warned in Matthew's mind.

"Yeah, no shit," Matthew muttered.

Sofia lunged again, feinting left before swinging a right hook at his jaw. Matthew shifted his weight, catching her wrist just in time. But the moment his grip tightened, she twisted, using his momentum to pull him forward and sweep his legs out from under him.

Matthew hit the snow with a grunt. The cold seeped into his back, but his pride stung more.

Ace whistled from the sidelines. "Damn, Elliott. She's mopping the floor with you."

Matthew groaned, rolling onto his side. "Yeah, I noticed."

[Get up. Don't let her walk away thinking she won.]

Taking a deep breath, Matthew sprang to his feet, fists raised. Sofia was already backing away, brushing snow from her pants. Her expression shifted when she saw him stand—surprised, then impressed.

"You're tougher than I remember," she said, her voice softening just a touch.

"Yeah, well… I've been busy," Matthew replied, squaring his shoulders. "Now, are we gonna talk, or do I have to dodge more of your love taps?"

Sofia's jaw tightened. "What's there to talk about? You said your piece when you humiliated me."

Matthew's chest tightened. Elliott's memories surfaced—faint echoes of past flirtations and unresolved tension. He could feel Elliott's guilt, layered with his own confusion.

"Look, I... didn't mean what I said that day," Matthew said, lowering his fists. "I was just… I had to push you away."

Sofia's eyes narrowed. "Why is that? Did your master order you to?" she asked, motioning toward Ace with a tilt of her head. Her words dripped with venom—she knew they would hurt him. That's why she said them; she was doing the same thing he had done the day before. She was trying to shame him for being a slave.

The words hit their mark like a punch to the gut. Somehow, Matthew felt the sting as if it belonged to Elliott—and maybe it did.

"Yes, I'm a slave," Matthew said, his voice low and sharp. "But you know what's more pathetic than being a slave? Falling in love with one." The air grew heavier as their eyes locked, anger crackling like a live wire between them.

"Hey! What are you guys talking about?" Ace called from a distance, his voice breaking through the tension. "You two look like you're about to start axe training without me!"

"Nothing," Sofia said, turning away without another word. "Just the weather."

She walked off, leaving Ace shouting after her.

Matthew remained frozen in place, his pulse still racing. Then Elliott's voice cut through the silence.

[Smooth, Romeo. Real smooth.]

Ace shook his head and stepped back. "Whatever. Let's get back to training before Mom drags us in to peel potatoes."

Matthew exhaled through his nose and rolled his shoulders. "Yeah, sure. Let's go."