Black Heart - Flying Fists

Let's paint a prettier picture. You're probably sick of all of this sadness, all of this sorrow. Why don't we do something more active? Maybe fighting?
    Loki was standing in a pit, it had the heavy stench of smoking and beer. People were looming around the pit, gazing into it, waiting for the fight. They were in a large room, it was once a warehouse, but it had been abandoned a long time ago, another age. It had been turned into “the Pit”: a place for men -- and women -- to throw fists at each other to prove their mettle; while spectators would shout, spit, drink, laugh, watch and cheer on the fighters. It was a good time with good company.
    Loki enjoyed a good fight from time to time, it was in her blood: she was Irish -- a stereotype nonetheless. She used to take karate; not going back a year ago, when she had moved out of her father's place and into the apartment with Vada. In fact, that's where Vada and Loki met. They were in a sparring match together, and just as they started, Loki said “Fantastic:” a catchphrase from their favorite television show: Doctor Who. Thus beginning their beautiful and romantic relationship.
    The crowd cheered as Loki stood across from her opponent -- a tall and beefy man with short, yet messy black hair, and sharp grey eyes. He had a smile upon his face, a friendly smile; but his eyes told a different tale: they flickered with a fire that ready to fight. Loki -- who was much shorter, despite her tallness in comparison to her friends and her love, and small than him -- showed no fear. Her heart was pounding in her chest in excitement mixed in with a spoonful of nervousness.
    Her love was wedged in the looming crowd of people. She cheered Loki on to keep her cool and to keep her confident.
    Loki loved it whenever Vada came to see her fight in the Pit. Sometimes, if Loki was victorious, they would sparring with each other; but it would end up with them on the couch, kissing -- and other stuff -- each other.     "Let's go, Loki!" she cried out. "You can do it, Boo!"
    Loki smiled; she turned towards her love and she blew a kiss and a wink to her. She face her opponent again. The bowed to each other and the crowd fell silent. They backed away from each other, getting into their stances.
    The opponent's stance seemed heavy and formless, rather sloppy. His legs seemed out of place and his arms were half-way up. While on the other hand, Loki's stance seemed to be elegant and tight. She kept a heel-to-toe stance and he kept her hands up to her face.
    Soon, the match began; the smile faded off the opponent's face, and the crowd went nuts: they cheered them on and they shouted and snarled at them, it was a fine mixture of both, perfect for the Pit.
    Loki danced around her opponent, while he took heavy steps, barely keeping his guard up. They kept serious eye contact with each other, his greys to her blues. For the first ten seconds they did not throw anything at each other -- the crowd was getting impatient and antsy, they wanted to see some action. The opponent threw the first shot: a meaty jab towards the small girl.
    She stayed light on her feet, and she evaded the strike and she came close towards him; and she threw quick strikes to his strong body. The beefy man flinched from her strikes; but he began to throw strikes back at her.
    Loki was luck enough to stay light on her feet, jumping back, and evade three of the shots, but on the fourth he slammed her right in her blue -- her eye -- causing it to blacken and made it watery, unclear for her to see. She shook her head and she glared at the beefy man; she heard a faint ringing noise burrowed in her ear, it was quite annoying; but she just shook it off and she stepped back in the fight.
    Vada seemed a little tense -- scared even -- but she knew that Loki would do fine, whether or not she would succeed or fail. She winced when her love was stricken by the heavy strike.
    The meaty man would throw sturdy strikes to her; but they were not quick enough to hit the ginger. They came close to her, almost striking her; but she was a lucky lass. She would occasionally she would come in towards him like a rocket -- delivering jabs and crosses to his ribs and his brawny face. She only got two strikes into him, before she had to fallback away from him, before he sent any powerful shots to her.
    The meaty man watched Loki as she dodged left, then right; throwing a crisp hook-punch to his jaw; causing him to stagger backwards an inch or so. He shook his head twice, and he still threw strikes to the slender ginger with great strength, much like an oak tree. The small girl still managed to keep on her face, but her body started to tire and beads of sweat trickled down her face and body. Her breathing began heavy, but she still fought on; for her victory and her Vada. She still dodged and struck the oaken man with quick blows; but she made one wrong move, and bam! The oaken man struck her square to her chest with his garnet fist.
    Loki fell onto the edge of the ring; her head pounded inside her skull. She held on the rim of the pit with tight fingers before she rose up on her feet. Her lip was bleeding, she tasted the beautiful, red liquid -- it was sweet mixed in with a metallic and a salty taste. She took a deep breath and she raised her hands up back in her guard, shakily and uneasily. She was still persistent, like an undying flame. She spat out a scarlet coin onto the cold floor of the pit; the crowd wailed and cried with excitement. They loved how Loki was still fighting, not giving the beefy man an easy victory.
    The pit was shifting and turning in the mind of Loki; everything a growing silent as a library. The figures and lights blurred and they spun; but her opponent was still clear as day to her. This is where she really got to see who he really was:
    A golden ring on his large finger, it glinted in the light: he was a married man. He also had tired eyes: he was getting very little sleep; and his eyes also gleamed with a kind light. Was he a father? She saw how this man was strong, in more way than one. He was fighting for money for his family.
    She could not beat this man; she thought about a little girl. She saw a little girl burrowed in the darkness, alone and now afraid. The lanky shadowy hands laid on her shoulders, urging her to come with them into hell. She was shattered, broken into pieces.
    She stood still, waiting for the man to punch her at least. She kept her guard up to give the illusion she was still fighting; but her movement was slowly and heavy, like the oaken man's. Her heart was rapidly beating in her chest: waiting for the beating the man was going to give it. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. It was all over soon enough. The steel mitt struck her with such force, making her fall onto the rough terrain of pit, and her vision darkened into the abyss.
    "Steady now… plunge into the pool of your madness. Lose yourself in your own mind. Don't worry, you won't be missed. Don't worry, you'll be fine, everyone will be fine if you would just lose yourself into hell. Lose yourself, and you, your brother, and your love will be at peace. Just lose yourself and the world will be right."
    "Loki! Loki, honey! Wake up!"
    The warmth of her love's hand stroked the side of her cold slender face. She could hear the worriment woven into her voice. Slowly Loki opened her eyes to see a pale light dangling above. She also saw the worried eyes of her love and her lips quivering in fear. Her brown hair acted like a curtain to the two loved ones. A soft, yet painful smile rose up on the ginger's face.
    "Hey, Boo," said Loki wearily. “Sorry I got my ass handed to me." She began to softly chuckled underneath her broken breath.
    Vada embraced her love, almost crying over her shoulder. "You had me so worried!" She held her tight to her breast, like she afraid of letting her go. "You were out for hours!"
    Loki sat up; a sharp pain was embedded in the side of her face where the imprint of the beefy man's fist had laid. 'shh, shh," she whispered into the ear of her love. "I'm okay, I'm okay. Don't worry about me, I'm fine."
    Vada still held her love tight to herself. She could tell that there was something wrong with Loki, more than usual. What happened in the fight was something she had done herself, like she had lowered her guard and let the punch pound at her. Vada was of course worried for her love, she was always worried for her love, and Loki was always worrying for her; but Vada was worrying more than usual: anger and sorrow seemed to be consuming Loki, and it broke Vada's heart just to see her wither from the inside out.
    Loki was never the one to tell anybody all of her feelings, not even her love. Loki did not want other people to get consumed into her own problems, her own troubles, but friends and family would intervene, never leaving her alone, asking her what was wrong. She hated it when people asked her what was wrong. The only exception was her Vada: she was the only person Loki had opened up to, but she would still not tell her everything. She did not want to see her getting hurt, she did not want to see Vada suffer through pain once more (a depressing tale I dare not get into. Sorry to burst your bubble, and sorry for bringing it up) and most importantly: she did not want to lose her love. She would rather lose herself then lose her precious Vada. She loved her to the point of madness. A point Loki would see sooner rather than later.
    The two held each in their arms so lovingly, yet so scarcely. When they finished they stood up and they walked home -- Loki clutched the side of her chest while she felt a throbbing pain kicking on her chest -- and they sat on the couch together once they arrived at their destination. They took no stops and no pauses, and they said no words down the dark streets.
    Loki laid her head upon Vada's breast on the couch, and she listened to her heartbeat: thump-thump, thump-thump. It was strange. Vada's heartbeat would always calm Loki down, and sometimes Loki would fall asleep just listening to Vada's heartbeat. She could never explain why it soothed her, it simply just did. She closed her eyes tightly and she just listened to her love's heartbeat. Vada kept her hand on the back of the ginger's head and she gently stroked it. They fell asleep on the couch that night.