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"Look, I know I told you the other day that fighters aren’t just people looking for violence, but Kane… Kane seems to be the exception. He doesn’t approach fighting the same way the other guys do. He doesn’t care about taking the technique classes, or about getting better at the sport. Every time I see him working out, honest to God it feels like he’s just looking for an excuse to punch someone.”
It would’ve been obvious to me even without seeing his fighting style that Kane has lived a hard life. No one is this closed off to the world, this angry at it, without a reason. I don’t know what that reason is, but my heart aches for Kane because of it.
And with his gaze now focused only on me, I can't help but wonder if that's a good descriptor of Kane as a person: shrouded by darkness at first glance, but with so much fiery light hidden beneath the surface.
“You have no idea how annoying it is to know that you can do that without even trying.” I let out a bark of startled laughter. Fuck, when was the last time someone made me laugh?
"Such a furious little ballerina," he murmurs, his lip curling into a smirk. He reaches to attach the strap for me.
"I got tired of always having to fight,” I add. “I needed to get away from it all." "Or maybe you were tired of surviving," she says absentmindedly, her gaze on where she's twirling her empty mug. "Maybe you wanted to learn how to live, instead."
“Good girl,” Kane praises, those two words doing more to me than my first boyfriend managed to do in an entire year. I think Kane knows it, too, because his lip twitches when I feel my cheeks flame.
"You play the part, but it's just an act, isn't it? Underneath all that lace and sweetness, you're actually a tigress. You're strong, and passionate, and you’re so fucking sexy."
You could be the greatest dancer that ever lived, and I'd still think the rest of you was more valuable."
"What on earth does unhappy Kane look like?" I wonder sarcastically as I lean down to pull the pan out and set it on the stovetop. I'm so mesmerized by the sight of our cheesy, perfect meal, I don't realize Kane has stepped up behind me until his arms go around my waist. He tightens his grip and nuzzles into my neck, and his voice is quiet when he says, "It's getting harder and harder to remember."
"Kane, you deserve to have someone care about you," she says firmly. "You deserve to be loved. Do you hear me? Isabella isn't settling for you. She's been choosing you. Every day. Because you're worthy of being chosen."
