Six Sentence Sunday - Battered Not Broken

“I can’t stop fighting, even if it would be safer for me not to. I just can’t, Ally.” He surprised her by reaching across the table and taking one of her hands. “Don’t look so sad.”

The condensation on his fingers dampened hers, too. She looked at his face and tried not to let her gaze linger on his split and swollen lips, or the reddened area beneath his nose. He didn’t seem to mind the injuries, but to her, they were a flagrant reminder of what he risked each time he stepped into the cage – everything.