Unprecedented; that was the only way for me to describe the scene unfolding in front of me. The lights, the colors, the crowd. Everything was pulsating to the rhythm of the athletes in the middle of the ring. Beautiful and terrifying; the only true words to describe the moments to come.

Other than messages and phone calls exchanged between us, I hadn't seen the man I was longing for all week. We were both caught up in our own worlds; I was at the hospital before dawn and he was training with his uncle Elijah 'til the late hours of the night. The rest of the week had gone by so slowly, and I was beginning to miss him more than I deemed necessary.

That was until he decided to sneak away from training the night before, and come knocking on my door to spend a couple of hours of the night with me.

"I missed you," I breathed against his cheek when he pulled me into him, before his lips connected to mine.

My sleep deprived brain decided to hide him in my room, so Markus wouldn't discover us, only to remember later, when I was sane and had a cup of coffee, that I was twenty-four and his over-protective brother-point-of-view didn't really matter. Still, I dragged him in my own safe space, uncaring of the mess of books on the carpet, before I fell on my bed face first into the pillows.

Contrary to the rest of my week, it was serene with Brandon by my side. The pieces fell into place, and unwittingly, I slept with him by my side, 'til the early hours of the morning.

"I have to go, Angel." My eyes had opened wide at his words, my hands clenched against his shirt, pulling him closer to me, and he chuckled at the distaste on my face. "Get some rest. I'll see you tonight."

His lips left one last soft kiss on my forehead, before he disentangled himself from my limbs and left before the other two people living in my apartment found out. It wouldn't really matter if they did, but I wanted to savor in this feeling growing between the two of us first, before anyone else found out.

"I can't believe we're sitting in the first row. This is fucking awesome." Markus' excitement wasn't new, these past few days, and the closer the day came, the more excited he felt. We all did.

The stage was so close to us and we could clearly see the people on the stage just a few meters away from us. The referee was already there, along with the coaches of each athlete, currently waiting by their corners.

Suddenly, the crowd around us stood on their feet and cheered for the athletes, who descended from their corresponding sides, before they climbed up the stage to take their place inside the ring. I was immediately drawn to Brandon, dressed in silky black shorts and a robe, a protective helmet and mouthguard already in place. He took his robe off, making everyone in the stadium cheer loudly, as he jumped on his bare feet to warm up.

Everything was such a huge contrast to the crisp shirts and trousers he usually wore, but I couldn't lie to myself; I was desiring this side of him just as much. Everything. From his determined eyes, to his sculpted physique, to the fire emanating from around him as he sized his opponent.

"That's Isaac Meyers," Jaxon spoke beside my ear, pointing to the man dressed in silver. "He's new to the whole scene, but apparently has seven consecutive wins under his belt."

"He's going by the name 'Overkill', but I think the Guardian will eat him for breakfast." My brother had a certain glimmer in his eyes, obviously overtaken by the thrill of seeing one of his favorite boxing athletes return to the game.

"Do you think he'll give him a hard time?" There was no way I could hide the worry obvious in my voice and words.

"Definitely." Jax snickered beside me, and I turned to look at him with anger in my eyes. The two boys were now laughing at my horror-filled face, and I turned my attention towards Brandon, worry finally overtaking me.

"Don't worry, Eri. Your lover boy can handle Meyers just fine." My brother decided to add, aiding my face to blush and ultimately dissipating the angst I was beginning to feel.

"Chica, he can win this." Between the two laughing boys, I only felt better when Stella's hand found mine. Being the calm force among the four of us, I clutched on her hand, drawing tranquility from her calm composure. "He's looking at you," she whispered beside my ear, and I turned to find his green eyes.

The pull between us was drawing me to him like a string. I had the sudden urge to stand up and run to him, maybe even drag him off the stage, but that wouldn't be any different from the rest of the fan-girls cheering and screaming for him, so I tried to ground myself. It wasn't easy, especially when he graced us all with that signature smirk, making his fans go wild. It felt good knowing it was only directed towards me.

Everything in that moment, his smile, the teasing wink that followed, were for me. It was unfair, how difficult he was making this for me, and I found myself biting my bottom lip to ground me and maybe even tease him a bit with a weapon of my own. It seemed to work, because his teasing façade morphed to something else, something dangerous filled with want. I regretted my action, when he directed this newfound determination towards his opponent.

The two athletes seemed to exchange playful words between them, before Brandon's determined front turned sour. Meyers was laughing at his current predicament, until Brandon turned the other way and towards his coach and two friends. The younger of the three nodded at whatever Brandon told them, and he turned to move towards us. I was surprised to see the man taking a seat beside Jaxon, before he turned towards me.

"Are you Erika?" All four pairs of eyes were directed at the new person, while he stared at me. I nodded, and a grinning smile appeared on his face. "Nice. I'm Liam, Brandon's best friend," he said, a smug look on his handsome face, as he directed that gleam towards Jaxon. I raised an eyebrow in question, but was easily ignored by the rest of the group. "Hope you don't mind me joining you guys."

"Not at all. It's nice to meet you." I decided to answer. "This is my best friend Stella, Markus is my twin-brother and this is Jaxon, friend and colleague."

"Why do you have to say it like that, Ricci. Admit it, we're great partners." Both Markus and I chuckled at Jaxon's teasing tone and Stella's annoyed cough, before she added a cheeky "In your dreams, Inkles."

The three of them continued to debate who the best partner was, but I caught Liam's calculating light blue eyes, as he watched our interactions without saying more words than the ones needed. I remembered when Brandon told me about Liam; he seemed like a playful guy, but everything he did was premeditated, planned. His eyes found mine and his lips turned upwards in a small smile, before he directed his attention towards the stage.

A bell sounded, announcing the beginning of the first round, and my breath was caught in my throat. Twenty-four hours ago, I couldn't wait to be here, cheer for him and be a part of this for him. Now, I wasn't sure I could gut the whole game. The first five minutes were so intense, I regularly hid myself behind my hands and tried to concentrate on the cheering crowd around me, instead of the burning sound of each blow landing on skin.

The referee blew his whistle, signaling the end of the third round, and I finally breathed again, while the athletes had a minute to catch their own breaths. It was silly, because the sight of blood never fazed me, but this... this was different. It was like I felt each blow on Brandon's skin. At least if each punch remained unseen, I could trick myself in believing it landed on Meyers instead. That's why in the next sixty seconds I avoided looking at the ring, so my thoughts remained unconfirmed. In my mind he was still safe.

During the fourth round, a body collided with the ground, a booming sound echoing throughout the stadium, while the crowd's cheers deafened for a moment. I wasn't looking, unsure what was happening, until Elijah's voice echoed above the rest, incomprehensible voices.

"Get up, Brandon. This isn't the end, buddy, just get your shit together and finish this thing."

Another blow sounded, along with pained grunts, before I couldn't take it anymore.

I opened my eyes, making direct contact with Brandon's deep green ones. A streak of blood colored his left eyebrow, as he brought his gloved hand by his side in an attempt to stand up. Meyers' right hook connected with the floor, when Brandon rolled to his side, his hands protecting his face. My nerves were a tangled skein and, unable to remain seated, I got to my feet. Cheers of 'More!' and 'Finish him!' were muffled together, but the only word escaping my lips was 'Rise!'

Kicking his opponent's legs in the next second, Brandon managed to create enough distance between him and Meyers, so he could get onto his own two legs. Before Meyers had time to reciprocate, the referee blew his whistle, announcing the fourth and last pause, before the final round. Brandon sat by his corner, his uncle and another man provided him with a towel and water, while they exchanged words between them. He was obviously tense, but the moment his eyes found my own again, he chuckled, shaking his head in what looked like disbelief.

"You do know you're still standing, right?" Jax unknowingly answered the question I had in my mind, but I couldn't bring myself to sit down. Everything was too much. I couldn't stay in place, not after seeing his face, that smile, even amidst everything that was happening.

Instead of answering like a sane person, I started laughing, shaking like the nerves inside of me. "I guess I am," was my answer, followed by chuckles from the other two.

Liam was the only one not reacting; still, during the game, I felt his calculative bright eyes on me more than once.

The last round began after the referee's whistle was heard. Everything happening around me was a repetition of the previous rounds; everyone cheered for their favorite athletes in the middle of the ring, but my own focus was directed towards only one Guardian. Everything about him was majestic. The way he moved, his meticulous hits, all calculated to connect with his target. He was so gracious in the way he avoided his opponent's hits, repelling with his own deliberate blows.

Such a contrast to the last seconds of the fourth round.

No, this time he was unforgiving.

It wasn't a huge surprise that the match ended with a cocky Isaac Meyers knocked out cold in the middle of the ring. Brandon stood by his unconscious body, taking deep breaths, before the referee came by his side, counting down with the rest of the stadium like an orchestrated chorus, before announcing the winner.

He won. Dio mio, he fucking won.

His smile was contagious, as I felt myself grinning. I was snapped back to reality, when Jaxon pinched my arm, and I turned towards him, finding him smiling as well, but not as widely as me or the others in the audience. Still, he was smiling in a 'Jaxon' kind of way.

"Told you he could make it," my brother said ruffling my hair, before pulling a grinning Stella closer by his side.

Liam's serious front melted in a more playful sight; one I was surprised to see. "That motherfucker... he scared me to death," he said, shaking his head, before he directed his attention towards me. "Come with me."

He motioned with his head towards the back door and I turned to meet Brandon's eyes, who nodded in affirmation. Understanding our silent conversation, I blended through the crowd as I moved through the back door, where I met Brandon's coach who took me to his dressing room.

I didn't have to wait more than a couple of minutes, before my fighter emerged through the door.

"Didn't you have to answer questions for the press? Or take pictures with your fans?" It should be no surprise that my voice came out hoarse, after all the time I was cheering and screaming along with the other people in the stadium. Still, the amused smirk on his lips stirred something inside me at how disheveled I felt from almost doing nothing.

"There was something I had to do urgently," he said breathlessly, throwing his protective helmet on the leather-sofa.

After covering the distance between us in a few steps, he pulled me in his strong arms, his lips colliding with mine.

"You were afraid for me," he said between kisses.

"Of course, I was... when I saw you on the floor, Dio mio, I almost died," I muttered against his lips.

"That look on your face... I didn't want to do that to you..." He took a deep breath, resting his forehead on mine. "I gave it my all, so I could see that excited grin return to your face."

"You broke Meyers' clean streak." He chuckled at my words, shaking his head slightly.

"Someone had to."

His hands pulled me closer, as he caressed my back with his hands, free of the gloves he was wearing in the middle of the ring. It soothed my nerves being held like this. Like the night before, we were the only two in the room, breathing in each other. I liked the warmth of his skin and I found out, I didn't mind the scent of his sweat; it was a mixture of sea salt and him.

"Your brow is bleeding." He tried to rub the wound, but I caught his wrist before he touched near it. "Don't. Let me take care of it. Do you have any medical supplies?"

He nodded, taking my hand in his, before pulling me further inside the room. With a surprised yelp, he positioned me on the large table in the middle of his dressing room, a first-aid-bag by my side, as he stood in front of me.

The gleam in his otherwise playful eyes, now held hunger, making me gulp; the want between us was mutual. His hands were on my calves, stroking soothing circles on my jean-cladded legs, before he pushed them aside. He didn't take another step towards me, though; he was waiting for consent. I was falling for this side of him; the one where his want, his need for contact was transparent, but he never acted on his urges. Not without me taking the step to diminish the gap.

And that was exactly what I did.

Overwhelmed with emotions, I pulled the black strap of his robe tied around his body and circled my legs around his strong frame. My actions were uncalculated, and he came crushing to my body, but I covered it up as best as I could with my lips on his. I thought my plan was successful, but the teasing chuckle left on my lips proved otherwise.

Remembering what our original plan was, I pushed his torso away, without releasing my legs from around him, and started cleaning the wound above his left eyebrow with a cloth and disinfectant. It wasn't deep enough to need stiches, but it still looked nasty. Steri-strips were ideal in this situation, so after the wound was dry, I stuck the strips to each side.

"Good as new." I grinned at my work, before returning my eyes to his. "What?"

His gaze was still heated, and the moment I was done, he attacked me.

This kiss was more passionate than all the others exchanged between us. Lips melted together in a fight filled with heat. He scratched my bottom lip with his teeth, before pulling it in between his lips. My hands were lost in his hair as I pulled and tagged, and he retaliated by biting down on my lip making me moan in both pain and pleasure. It was always both with us. His tongue soothed my sore lip, before it entered my mouth to find my own tongue, ready to fight some more. Luring him closer with the warm press of my tongue to his, I attacked back with my teeth, earning a grunt and a 'Fuck!' from him. I shivered at the word and I soon realized; I loved earning one-worded responses from him, simply because the pleasure was too great for both of us.

The shift in energy made me wither with want and I pulled him closer with both legs and hands. His were caressing up and down on my body, until one took a hold of my hair and turned me to the side to start attacking my neck with hot lips and teeth and tongue to sooth the pain, before repeating his actions. I was a withering mess, and I closed my eyes to relish the feeling that was so soon escalating between us. Each kiss, each drag of teeth and lapse of tongue across my skin held so much; everything that was left unspoken 'til now, was left in red marks like a web to a story across my skin and lips.

"I- You- you feel g-good..." I tried, but realized I was a stuttering mess, and so shut my mouth from further humiliating myself.

Damn it, what was happening to me?

Instead of some teasing or funny remark, I was met with kind, hazy eyes and a soft smile. He cupped my flustered cheeks and kissed my forehead, before pulling my head to his chest. I took a couple of breaths to ease my fast-beating heart, only to realize his was beating just as fast.

I wasn't the only one overwhelmed and breathless.

I pushed him away faster than lightning, when I heard someone tagging on the door's handle, before a storm of people came rushing inside the room.

"Man, those paparazzi are insane." Markus breathed out as he tried to control his breathing. Stella and Jaxon beside him seemed to be doing the same thing, giving us a few seconds to push away from each other and for me to scramble off the table.

"Oh, you're here. We were looking everywhere for you." My brother said, a sigh escaping his lips, as he plopped himself on the leather sofa beside Brandon's forgotten helmet.

'Please, make yourself at home,' I thought to myself, rolling my eyes.

We were twins, but him and I were like day and night; most of the times.

My eyes met Stella's grinning ones, and I knew exactly what she was thinking. She shouldn't give me that; not with the whole 'I am dating your twin brother', but this was not the right time to tease them both. I also had a feeling Jax would side with them, and it'd be three against two in the interrogating game, and I hated losing. Besides, I still had no idea what this was between Brandon and I. There was no label, which was both thrilling and scary, but I wanted us to take our time, before a talk, that talk, took place.

It simply wasn't the time for anyone to tease anyone.