Chapter 25: you... you haven’t actually turned into a stalker, did you?

By the time they stopped, the sun had fully risen.

Most of the early students had left, and the place was quieter now. Lucian stood near the back, breathing harder than usual.

Just like it had happened in the gym before, he was tired, but he hadn’t collapsed. It was... surprising.

Before, one hard gym session ruined him for days. Now, even after hours of training, he could still move fine.

Marcus noticed that too.

"You should be dead tired by now."

He looked offended.

"I am tired."

"No.

You are mildly inconvenienced."

Lucian looked at him and—

"That sounds accurate."

He nodded.

"Don’t get smart with me, science project."

Lucian’s mouth twitched.

Marcus didn’t care, he simply walked to a bench, sat down, picked up a towel and wiped his head. Lucian followed him.

"So?"

Marcus looked up.

"So what?"

"Did I improve?"

"You are still asking that?"

Marcus leaned back and raised his eyebrow.

"I learned what you taught me, that much I know.

I am asking, did I learn what I came here to learn?"

"What did you come here to learn?"

Marcus asked curiously.

"Control.

I came here to learn a way to control my strength."

Marcus looked at him for a moment, then he answered honestly as he continued to wipe his sweat.

"What you are learning will help."

"That sounds like a polite way of saying no."

Lucian frowned.

"It’s a realistic way of saying you have been here one morning."

Lucian didn’t know what to say to that. Marcus looked at him for a good while and then—

"Kid, I can teach you how to stand, how to move, how to punch without throwing your whole body into it, how to kick without spinning yourself into another postcode, how to fall, how to breathe, and how to not panic when someone swings at you."

He paused for a moment as he looked him up and down.

"But whatever you are...

I don’t know how to teach that."

At those words, something inside Lucian sank a little.

Marcus scratched his jaw as he looked away with slight hesitation.

"There are better centers than this, bigger places, coaches who trained professionals, Olympic wrestlers, UFC-level guys, fancy equipment, sports doctors, people with more letters after their names than I have teeth left.

If you are serious, you might want to look into them."

"You want me to leave?"

Lucian frowned.

"I want my bags to survive."

Lucian stared at him and Marcus sighed as he spoke honestly.

"And maybe, yes, a little.

You are confusing, dangerous, and I am too old to pretend I enjoy mystery."

"But?"

Lucian could sense there was something else.

"But..."

Marcus clicked his tongue.

"You listen, you don’t show off, and you looked more upset about hurting Briggs than proud of throwing him."

Marcus stood up.

"So come tomorrow, before the others arrive."

"You said there are better places."

"There are."

"Then why train me?"

Lucian asked curiously.

Marcus picked up the broken chain from the heavy bag and held it up.

"Because if you walk into one of those places... I don’t know what they will turn you into."

Lucian stared at him for a moment, then he nodded.

"I’ll come tomorrow."

"I was afraid you’d say that."

Marcus groaned.

"I thought you invited me."

Lucian frowned.

"I did. I tend to do a lot of things I regret."

"That’s kinda my thing. People usually regret doing me, though those people are usually much fairer than you."

Lucian laughed and Marcus’s face twitched.

"You better leave before I wrap this chain around your neck and choke you to death."

"Alright, alright."

Lucian laughed even louder as he picked up his gym bag and walked away. Before leaving, he turned back and—

"Coach."

He called.

"What?"

Marcus looked at him.

"Thank you."

He bowed.

"Just go away."

Marcus shooed him away.

Lucian walked out of the MMA centre with a smile and as if on cue, his phone vibrated.

Lucian took it out.

It was Naomi.

Where are you? —Naomi.

Why’s there a lock on your house? —Naomi.

Lucian stared at the message for a moment.

you... you haven’t actually turned into a stalker, did you? —Lucian.

The reply came almost instantly.

your confidence amazes me... —Naomi.

have you been reading those how to gain confidence 101 books or something? They are working. —Naomi.

Why did you text me? —Lucian.

Lucian asked with a defeated look on his face.

Where r u? —Naomi.

Lucian glanced at the MMA centre behind him and—

Leaving an MMA Class —Lucian

He answered.

For a moment, no reply came, but then—

Of course you are —Naomi.

Lucian could imagine her shaking her head as she said those words and that made him raise an eyebrow.

What does that mean? —Lucian.

MMA? Srsly? Why? —Naomi.

Lucian thought about it for a moment and—

I am trying to be less dangerous. —Lucian.

He answered.

By learning how to punch better? —Naomi.

Lucian stared at the message.

He was speechless because of how much sense those words made.

I looked into it, you won’t understand. —Lucian.

He dismissed her.

Why are you texting me so early in the morning anyways? —Lucian.

He asked again, though in his mind, he already knew the answer. It was time for her morning run and she must have panicked when she didn’t see him home.

Honestly, the way she was acting made him laugh.

Couldn’t she be more honest and direct? Why bother trying to hide her worry? It made Lucian interested to see how far she would go before she finally admitted it.

Did she call? —Naomi.

She asked, changing the topic again. Lucian knew who she was talking about so he nodded.

Yes. —Lucian.

Are you coming to the University then? —Naomi.

I am. —Lucian.

Professor Hart wants you in her office before class, be there. —Naomi.

Lucian raised his eyebrow.

Why do you know that? —Lucian.

I have my ways —Naomi.

What ways? —Lucian.

Don’t bother, your small brain won’t be able to understand. You go read your confidence books and do your MMA thingy. —Naomi.

I am leaving, meet me at the east gate at 9:30 —Naomi.