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For Sinthia
Illya was still a bit confused about the living arrangements with Sinthia and Sam. Rather than taking his frustrations out on furniture or people, he was currently pounding away at a heavy punching bag at Delflorio's. It was an old fashioned gym a couple of blocks from his apartment. Old fashioned in that there was no fancy equipment, no stair steppers, no treadmills, or ellipticals. No women looking for Zumba classes or whatever. No women were allowed. There was a boxing ring, punching bags, a couple of sets of well used weights, an ancient yet usable rowing machine. He didn't feel as if he had to impress anyone. They were used to seeing the big Russian there. He'd had a membership ever since he moved to the United States. He didn't usually draw stares at Delflorio's, unless someone new came in. He didn't have to hide the tattoos as much as if he'd gone to a fancier place. He'd been working out for over an hour now. Illya had started with warming up, jumping rope, and then working at the punching bag. Still after nearly an hour, he was pounding on the bag as if he meant to kill someone.
After his conversation with Sam and learning that the guy was roommates with his girlfriend in a studio apartment with only one bed, he was a little confused and insecure. At first, he had wondered if he had done something wrong. Perhaps this arrangement with Sam was her way of telling him to bugger off. But then Sam had said he had his own girlfriend. Still, Illya felt like he had committed some sort of faux pas.
How did that work? Did Sam sleep at his girlfriend's place? Either way, if he'd known there was a roommate involved, he probably would not have been making out on the couch in the living room with Sinthia if there was the possibility that someone might walk in on them. He was a very private person when it came to it. Especially in romantic relationships. He had tried calling Sinthia to talk about his concerns with her, but he got her answering machine. Which he didn't want to talk to. After a couple of times, he gave up. Perhaps she was busy at her job. Or maybe she did not want to talk to him.
Delflorio wandered by at one point and watched him for a few minutes. "Good form. You training for a boxing match?" The old man asked. He must have been in his nineties. His hair was white and his face showed his age. But anyone who knew the old man, knew that the owner was a former boxer who could still throw a punch. Illya answered with a curt, "No." The old man warned, "You know, kid, if you break it, you bought it." "Da. I know," he replied, continuing to wail on the bag with his fists.
After his conversation with Sam and learning that the guy was roommates with his girlfriend in a studio apartment with only one bed, he was a little confused and insecure. At first, he had wondered if he had done something wrong. Perhaps this arrangement with Sam was her way of telling him to bugger off. But then Sam had said he had his own girlfriend. Still, Illya felt like he had committed some sort of faux pas.
How did that work? Did Sam sleep at his girlfriend's place? Either way, if he'd known there was a roommate involved, he probably would not have been making out on the couch in the living room with Sinthia if there was the possibility that someone might walk in on them. He was a very private person when it came to it. Especially in romantic relationships. He had tried calling Sinthia to talk about his concerns with her, but he got her answering machine. Which he didn't want to talk to. After a couple of times, he gave up. Perhaps she was busy at her job. Or maybe she did not want to talk to him.
Delflorio wandered by at one point and watched him for a few minutes. "Good form. You training for a boxing match?" The old man asked. He must have been in his nineties. His hair was white and his face showed his age. But anyone who knew the old man, knew that the owner was a former boxer who could still throw a punch. Illya answered with a curt, "No." The old man warned, "You know, kid, if you break it, you bought it." "Da. I know," he replied, continuing to wail on the bag with his fists.
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"Sergei is a very poor combatant," she said when he'd sat back down and she felt a wave of relaxation fall over her, enough to chuckle at the man's excuse. "I didn't want to tell you right then. You'd have blown your cover, especially if it's still making you mad enough to curse like that."
She'd been reading his lips. "How is his head, though?" She'd broken his hand, three fingers at least and his nose, but her finishing strike had been jabbing the point of her elbow into his temple, feeling the thin bone there fracture and nearly give way with a crack.
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"He thought I was getting too...close to you. Too confident in how I acted, evidently," she said with a shrug.
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"I am sorry. I let my temper get better of me. I am working on it." He had come quite a long way. His therapist would be happy that he was learning to control it. Even if it took some work on his part. He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb.
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She let him hold her off-hand and ate with the other, happy for the moment that she can have a moment like this with her boyfriend, quiet and intimate. "I like that you're so protective."
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"Avi, you want I should kiss you too?" he laughed. This was nice.
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"Let him find his own woman," she said, biting his lip gently and brushing his bangs back.
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The sun had gone down and they had eaten their fill of the Paella. "Shall we go watch a movie?"
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She kissed Illya's cheek as the movie started, snuggling into his side.
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