《boxer [p.jm] ✔️》0.1

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Peyton

I ignored the heavy sigh that escaped from Piper's lips as I walked past her, continuing to wrap up my hands.

"When are you-"

She didn't even need to finish her question since I already knew the answer. "I'll be back as soon as I can," I pulled open the door to our apartment, closing my eyes as it quietly shuts behind me.

I wiggle my fingers, stretching my arms out as I opened my eyes and looked up. Bad timing.

My neighbor looked up at the same time I did, our eyes locking for the split second I allowed. I kept a hard expression on my face while making my way to the lift.

I pressed the button with the down arrow symbol on it, trying to shake the image of Piper's frowning face as I left. She hates my afternoon routine, practically despised it.

A ding interrupted my thoughts, the doors slowly opening to reveal an empty box. I stepped in, pushing the lobby floor button, watching as the doors start to close immediately. An arm shot between the closing panels, before slipping in.

I avoided his gaze while I pushed the close doors button, internally sighing in relief as nothing decided to force it open again. I heard knuckles cracking, accidentally looking up and meeting the gaze of my neighbor again.

I mentally cursed at myself, having already seen him too many times today. He invaded my life too many times a day but I've dealt with it for seven years now.

The lift dinged again as my eyes shifted to the capital 'L' on the digital screen. My neighbor walked out before me, while I watched his figure saunter his way in the same direction I was going.

His hair was a bright red, gaining most of my focus. It was parted down the middle but carelessly tousled on each side, making it seem like he woke up like that.

The fact that I couldn't help but watch as his back muscles rippled as he walked through the door, had me mad at myself.

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I was going to push myself further today, no doubt. I pushed open the swinging door that my neighbor just walked through, putting on my focused expression.

I looked around, my eyes resting on the unoccupied bag hanging from the ceiling in the back left corner. It was hidden in the shadows, bringing happiness to me as I quickly made my way toward it.

I check my hands again, making sure they are wrapped properly, before getting into my punching stance.

I threw harsh punches into the black and red fabric, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of tingling in my knuckles after each punch. It just egged me on to go harder.

I paused for a break, shaking my hands out as I watched two guys slip into the small boxing ring in the center of the room.

They both looked at each other before a quick nod of their heads set them off. It was obvious they were friends, possibly closer. An opponent simply wouldn't wait for a signal to start the fight.

I nodded my head, impressed by the sudden ending of their round. The less muscular of the two had surprisingly taken down his friend, simply by messing with his brain. He used strategic moves to strike, and it resulted in a fair game.

They shook hands, pulling the other in for a bro hug. I looked away, returning my focus to the still swinging bag I was recently punching.

I stopped it from swinging, holding my hands on either side of the bag. I smiled to myself, bringing my hand up to punch the bag. It quickly morphed into my sister's face, the deep frown still stuck there from before.

I dropped my hands, glancing over at the large clock on the wall. It wasn't even six yet, and I couldn't focus on my target.

I glanced back at the bag, no longer seeing my precious sibling's face in it. I forced a punch to it, arguing with my mental self about how I could do some much better.

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I said it before, I was going to push myself harder today.

I forced quick jabs at the object swinging in front of me, not bothering to see who was watching me. I was the only female in this building who dared to come down here, so I suspected the stares to occur.

It wasn't as bad as I imagined it, and the people seemed pretty welcoming. I may have given them unnecessary glares, but that's beside the point.

I looked over at the clock again, seeing that it was now past six, and I should stop and head back to Piper.

A few more wouldn't hurt.

I was about to throw two more punches at the bag when I noticed a figure approaching me. I forced a scowl to replace my straight expression, standing up straighter as he got closer.

"Can I help you?", I harshly ask him, watching as he pushed the red strands of hair away from his sweaty forehead. The small pieces stuck out in different directions while I suppressed a small laugh.

"Why don't you ever go into the ring?", he asked me, while my eyes drifted from the hanging bag in front of me to the guy who stood next to it. He was rather straightforward.

"I'd prefer to ruin the bags rather than someone's face," I tell him, smirking as his eyes went wide and he backed away.

Poor neighbor.

I heave the bag away from me, brushing my arm against his as I walked toward the door. I could feel his intense gaze boring into the back of my head as I made my way through the door. I sighed in relief, wiggling my fingers out and stretching my arms in hopes to release tension.

I pushed the up arrow button, stretching my arms out in front of me. I felt the muscles stretch as I did so, making a soft noise as I released them to my sides.

The lift dinged like it normally would, while I shuffled into the empty box again. I waited for a second, knowing that my neighbor would be in the same box within a second.

I was proven correct as he quickly jumped inside, leaning against the wall furthest from me. He rests his head against the wall behind him, softly closing his eyes shut. I hit the button to our floor, finally taking the chance to observe his features.

His red hair stood out against his smooth, pale skin. His face showed no signs of wrinkles and I was convinced he didn't age. My eyes trailed down to his lips, they were a light shade of red, plump and full. They looked soft, but I would never admit that to anyone.

He wore a tight grey workout shirt, his biceps bulging against the thin material. I could make out the small indents across his stomach, as I realized they were abs. He wore black basketball shorts, one that stopped a few inches above his knee.

This I will admit to anyone, he had amazing thighs. I don't know what he does to get them like that, but they looked great. His shoes were simple running shoes, but they looked relatively clean for someone who boxes every day.

He moved his arms to cross them over his chest, my eyes absentmindedly following his movements. The lift dinged again, while I quickly averted my gaze from him, and to the opening doors.

I basically ran from the lift, my pace slowing as I get closer to my apartment. I sighed in relief, pushing open the door, as the smell of dinner hit my nose.

My face contorted into a hungry one, and I could've sworn I heard chuckling behind me as I shut the door.

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