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With a solid kick to the sternum, Steph went flying backwards and landed heavily on the ground, rolling to absorb the impact. At this point she had a whole garden of bruises flowering up and down her sides, and every movement sent a dull pain through her bones. She took a deep breath and forced it into background static, scrambling onto her feet as fast as she could.
“Lucky hit,” she said, shifting back into a defensive position.
“It was not,” Cass replied flatly. She was in her casual clothes; an athletic tank top and sweatpants. She stood with one hand propped on her hip, looking completely unfazed.
“Go again,” Steph said, dragging some of the sweat-soaked strands of hair from her forehead. She was breathing deeply, trying to will her lungs to stop burning.
Cass tilted her head to the side slightly. “You should rest.”
“I’m fine,” Steph insisted, trying to inject as much levity into her tone as possible, although she knew Cass could see right through it. It was a strange sensation, the feeling that Cass’ eyes could see right to her very core, calculating her next move before she herself had.
Either way, Cass gestured with her hand, signaling they could continue.
Steph, slow and still catching her breath, defaulted to a high kick. Cass easily moved out of the way, grabbed her ankle, twisted it hard enough to flip her completely over and sent her back into the ground face first.
A small starburst of pain erupted on Steph’s face. She yelped, involuntarily, propping herself up on one elbow and touching her nose gingerly. Her hand came away wet with blood, bright and red.
“You okay?” Cass asked, hovering a foot or so away. Her face was twisted with guilt. She took a step forward and then back just as fast.
“Yeah,” Steph said, flopping onto her back and staring up at the fluorescents mounted on the ceiling. Her eyes were watering with pain and she blinked to dispel the tears. The lights swirled and discolored through the lingering wetness. She considered getting up again, but she thought at this point Cass’ opinion of her probably couldn’t get any lower. And she was exhausted. She gently probed her nose again. “It’s not broken, don’t worry. Just a minor nosebleed.”
With the slightest shift of fabric, Cass sat down next to Steph. She moved unnervingly quietly.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I told you… you were not good enough.”
Steph knew she didn't mean it like that, but the words still cut through her.
“Well, we can’t all be as perfect as you,” Steph said. It came out more bitter than she intended.
Cass shook her head. “Not perfect.”
“Yeah, you are.” In every sense of the word. Maybe the pain was making her ramble, but she couldn’t stop talking. “I know it’s because of your shit dad. I know you didn’t want it. You were a kid.” She sighed. “Sometimes– well. We both got shit dads, but at least yours went through the effort of making you… ‘good enough’.”
There was a brief moment of silence before what she said fully registered in her mind.
“Shit,” she said, smacking her open palm to her forehead and covering her eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know,” Cass said. She didn’t sound angry. Steph peeked through her fingers and glanced at her. Her normally impassive face was tinted with emotion, something similar to sadness.
“I’m sorry.” Steph rolled onto her side so she was facing her.
“I know,” Cass repeated. She lay down too, stretching out on her side with her arm under her head. It reminded Steph of the stray cat that sometimes lingered around her front door.
For a while there was nothing but static and silence in the training room, buzzing around the air like flies around a corpse. Steph’s mouth tasted like iron.
“I’d rather…” Cass started, working her mouth as if she was trying to find the right words. “Be happy. Than perfect.”
“Do you think you could be happy without being perfect?” Steph asked, before internally wincing. She really needed to work on installing a permanent filter between her mind and her mouth.
“I… don’t know.” A little furrow formed in the middle of Cass’ forehead, which only happened when she was puzzled. Steph saw it very rarely. The sudden urge to reach out and trace it came over Steph for a second before she shook it off, feeling the tops of her cheeks beginning to redden.
“That’s okay,” Steph said. Her voice was closer to a whisper now. “You can be perfect enough for the both of us. And I can be happy enough.”
“You don’t have to be,” Cass said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. For some reason the words made fresh tears spring into Steph’s eyes, and she dispersed them as quickly as they could, but she knew it wasn’t lost on Cass.
The light was low in the room and it illuminated the sharpness of Cass’ eyes, her ink black hair falling out of the low ponytail and framing her face. If Steph really focused, she could make out a faint scattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose.
Steph watched Cass watching her. There was no way that Cass couldn’t read her body language; there was no way that she couldn’t tell just how much Steph wanted to reach out and close the gap between them. They both knew, and neither of them were doing anything.
After a few seconds, Cass began to move, slowly but not unsurely. She never moved unsurely. She reached out and, gently, touched her fingertips to Steph’s top lip, which was still slick with blood. Wordlessly, she pulled away, Steph’s blood vibrant against her pale skin. At some point when Cass’ hand had gotten close to her mouth Steph had stopped breathing, and there was a vivid feeling of lightheadedness coming over her.
Cass, gaze still intent on her, pressed her fingers against her own lips briefly. When she removed them, Steph’s blood was stained onto her mouth. Steph took another unsteady breath. She could understand well enough; for now, this was all there was.
Steph curled her lips into her best imitation of a smile and said, “Go again?”
Cass nodded, the blood on her lips catching the light and turning it ruby red.
Slowly, they got back up and resumed their positions.