Post by Mara on Feb 5, 2006 6:33:03 GMT
Note: This is kinda the rough draft... I just know that if I revamp it I will lose my nerve and not post it.
I left my bo case on the floor in the main office area while I locked the door for the evening. It had been difficult to get the hardcore trainers to leave – there were always a few left that really wanted to just try that one last kick – or have that one last go at their pattern. But at 9pm on a Friday night, I finally told them all to get the heck out. Why? Because I wanted to train – and so did Greg. We hadn’t had a real spar in weeks – months by now – the students being around meant we had to watch ourselves – try and maintain cool and keep the technique quality high, not lose ourselves in the heat. And we were starting to get twitchy.
Moving back into the large studio, Greg was finishing a form. I waited by the door, watching his grace and power. I never understood how he could move so fluidly – he was more graceful than any man I’d ever seen despite his bulk, but he had power and speed as well. And his technique? Like he’d be training for decades longer than the 10 he stated for the record. As he finished his last form, true to the instructor’s mantra of making each movement as intense as if it was your last, I could see a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead. I bowed to enter the mat as he finished and he allowed himself to relax.
“They gone, babe?”
“Yes, finally. We’ve got the place to ourselves.”
He came over and gave me a kiss on the cheek, smiling. “Then I think it’s time you and I had a good ol’ knock down drag out, hm?”
Feeling his pleasure, I grinned. “Damn straight it’s time.”
I straightened my belt and pulled my hair more tightly into its fastening. We lined up before each other on the mat, bowing – making certain not to make eye contact. In our art, it showed lack of respect to look at your opponent, so my eyes were on the mat, til I came back up to standing. He spoke the Korean terms for ready – then begin – and we were finally off. I exploded out with an axe kick, my long leg flying up to try and come down across his collar bone, but despite my speed he dodged to the side, his hand coming up to try to get close to my jaw. Rolling to the side, I spun back to face him and we circled. One minute passed, a flurry of punches and kicks flying – he got the better of me most of the time, I was used to it – but I lived for the occasional small openings he’d give me. Though I knew that most of them were purposeful – he was just that good. I used them now – instead of getting angry as I used to, I channelled the fury of the fight into intensity – and if I did say so myself, I was getting better all the time.
He delivered a low front kick that never should have connected with my upper thigh, but had somehow gotten in under my guard. I felt the connection and concentrated – keeping the anger at my slip-up as under wraps as I could. The sparring intensified – sweat was beginning to trickle down my neck from my damp ponytail – Greg’s uniform was beginning to dampen with sweat. Suddenly I spotted a hole in his guard, and without thinking, delivered a hard sidekick to his ribs. It was such a surprise to see such a vulnerable place open that it connected hard enough to knock him off balance – my focus had slipped just a little from fatigue. The impact lead surprise to form on his face, a grunt from his mouth – and an expression I did not recognize took hold on his face. If the fighting had been intense before, it became fever pitched. His blows came faster than anything we’d done before. It was all I could do to stay back – the tight control he always held was faltering, and a rage I’d never sensed from him before rolled over me – my breath began coming ragged between my teeth. With a loud yell I charged in, forsaking my guard for a half second – hoping the surprise would be on my side – but Greg’s arm shot out, and a ridge hand strike narrowly missed my jaw – when I turned, I lost my balance as my leg buckled from fatigue. My body fell towards him, and he caught me – but to my surprise, his arms went around me and his teeth connected with my collarbone – a usual thing for us in bed – but this time they connected and bit. Hard. I gasped with pain and surprise as I felt the skin break. “Greg! Bloody oath!”
I was released like I suddenly had become to hot to touch. I turned and looked at him, my hand going to my now blooded collarbone. “I don’t know that that’s legal, I- “ My voice faltered as I looked at him. His face was ashen as he looked at the blood soaking my uniform. “What’s the matter?” Visions that I’d actually broken his ribs flooded through my mind until I saw he was standing without pain.
“M-Mara.” His mouth worked soundlessly. “My god. Mara. I’m..oh god. Mara, I’m so sorry.”
Now I was confused. “We got carried away Greg – it’s ok, really.”
“No. you don’t understand. Oh god, Mara, you don’t know what I’ve done.”
“You broke control – everyone breaks it sometimes – look at how hard I’ve had to work to – “ his hand came up to silence me.
“no. You don’t understand. What I’ve done… Mara… I’ve changed your whole life.”
Now I was confused. And getting scared. “Look mate, you need to start making some sense.” I crossed my arms, ignoring the twinge from my shoulder.
He looked at me, his eyes boring into mine. “Mara – I’ve blooded you. With my body. Not with a punch. You’re… like me now.”
I stared at him.
“I’m… a werewolf.”
“Fuck you. That’s not a funny joke, Greg. Now stop it.”
“No Mara. I am a werewolf. And in 2 weeks time, you will be too.”
I balled my hands into fists. My mind denied what he said, but my empathy told me that he was not lying – and that frightened me more than anything had in my whole life. He was telling me what would happen – that he was older than he looked – that I’d need help.. that he’d never leave me now…
Covering my ears I shook my head hard. “No! NO!” He stopped talking, looking at me with such pain on his face. “You hid this. You’ve lied to me. And now you’ve made me… “ I couldn’t finish it.
“Mara – please –“
I looked up at him, tears beginning to fill my eyes. “If in two weeks, nothing has happened – I’ll come back for my things and we will legally sign the dojo over to me and you will get the hell out of San Francisco. But if in two weeks…” I shivered, despite the oppressive heat in the room. “If I am… that… then you’re never going to see me again. And I never want to see you again.”
“Mara. Love. Please.”
I looked at him, wondering how we’d been together for 2 years if there was always this between us. “It was never going to work between us. How could it have? You’ve lied to me – giving me hope. You bloody bastard.” Tears began to pour down my cheeks.
He moved forward to touch me.
I slapped him across the face – something I never would have dreamed of. “I’m going to the apartment for my camera gear. You’re to stay here for the next 2 hours. If you come earlier than that, I swear on all I hold dear that all of San Francisco will know what you are.”
“Mara.. I’m sorry.”
“Not as much as I am, mate. Damn you, Greg. Damn you for not trusting me, and damn you for making me love you.” My voice broke as I left the dojang. I left with my bo staff. Going to the apartment we’d shared – I numbly collected my camera gear and a few small items. A suitcase of clothes and I left, closing the door behind me.
It was an empty threat to expose him. He knows that. But… now what happens to me?
I had one thought. A remote cabin owned by my agent. I called him and asked if he was using it. He said no. I told him I’d be there for the next three weeks… and could he please keep everyone away… I’d need the space to develop some new pictures… he said yes. I hung up and rented a car.
I left my bo case on the floor in the main office area while I locked the door for the evening. It had been difficult to get the hardcore trainers to leave – there were always a few left that really wanted to just try that one last kick – or have that one last go at their pattern. But at 9pm on a Friday night, I finally told them all to get the heck out. Why? Because I wanted to train – and so did Greg. We hadn’t had a real spar in weeks – months by now – the students being around meant we had to watch ourselves – try and maintain cool and keep the technique quality high, not lose ourselves in the heat. And we were starting to get twitchy.
Moving back into the large studio, Greg was finishing a form. I waited by the door, watching his grace and power. I never understood how he could move so fluidly – he was more graceful than any man I’d ever seen despite his bulk, but he had power and speed as well. And his technique? Like he’d be training for decades longer than the 10 he stated for the record. As he finished his last form, true to the instructor’s mantra of making each movement as intense as if it was your last, I could see a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead. I bowed to enter the mat as he finished and he allowed himself to relax.
“They gone, babe?”
“Yes, finally. We’ve got the place to ourselves.”
He came over and gave me a kiss on the cheek, smiling. “Then I think it’s time you and I had a good ol’ knock down drag out, hm?”
Feeling his pleasure, I grinned. “Damn straight it’s time.”
I straightened my belt and pulled my hair more tightly into its fastening. We lined up before each other on the mat, bowing – making certain not to make eye contact. In our art, it showed lack of respect to look at your opponent, so my eyes were on the mat, til I came back up to standing. He spoke the Korean terms for ready – then begin – and we were finally off. I exploded out with an axe kick, my long leg flying up to try and come down across his collar bone, but despite my speed he dodged to the side, his hand coming up to try to get close to my jaw. Rolling to the side, I spun back to face him and we circled. One minute passed, a flurry of punches and kicks flying – he got the better of me most of the time, I was used to it – but I lived for the occasional small openings he’d give me. Though I knew that most of them were purposeful – he was just that good. I used them now – instead of getting angry as I used to, I channelled the fury of the fight into intensity – and if I did say so myself, I was getting better all the time.
He delivered a low front kick that never should have connected with my upper thigh, but had somehow gotten in under my guard. I felt the connection and concentrated – keeping the anger at my slip-up as under wraps as I could. The sparring intensified – sweat was beginning to trickle down my neck from my damp ponytail – Greg’s uniform was beginning to dampen with sweat. Suddenly I spotted a hole in his guard, and without thinking, delivered a hard sidekick to his ribs. It was such a surprise to see such a vulnerable place open that it connected hard enough to knock him off balance – my focus had slipped just a little from fatigue. The impact lead surprise to form on his face, a grunt from his mouth – and an expression I did not recognize took hold on his face. If the fighting had been intense before, it became fever pitched. His blows came faster than anything we’d done before. It was all I could do to stay back – the tight control he always held was faltering, and a rage I’d never sensed from him before rolled over me – my breath began coming ragged between my teeth. With a loud yell I charged in, forsaking my guard for a half second – hoping the surprise would be on my side – but Greg’s arm shot out, and a ridge hand strike narrowly missed my jaw – when I turned, I lost my balance as my leg buckled from fatigue. My body fell towards him, and he caught me – but to my surprise, his arms went around me and his teeth connected with my collarbone – a usual thing for us in bed – but this time they connected and bit. Hard. I gasped with pain and surprise as I felt the skin break. “Greg! Bloody oath!”
I was released like I suddenly had become to hot to touch. I turned and looked at him, my hand going to my now blooded collarbone. “I don’t know that that’s legal, I- “ My voice faltered as I looked at him. His face was ashen as he looked at the blood soaking my uniform. “What’s the matter?” Visions that I’d actually broken his ribs flooded through my mind until I saw he was standing without pain.
“M-Mara.” His mouth worked soundlessly. “My god. Mara. I’m..oh god. Mara, I’m so sorry.”
Now I was confused. “We got carried away Greg – it’s ok, really.”
“No. you don’t understand. Oh god, Mara, you don’t know what I’ve done.”
“You broke control – everyone breaks it sometimes – look at how hard I’ve had to work to – “ his hand came up to silence me.
“no. You don’t understand. What I’ve done… Mara… I’ve changed your whole life.”
Now I was confused. And getting scared. “Look mate, you need to start making some sense.” I crossed my arms, ignoring the twinge from my shoulder.
He looked at me, his eyes boring into mine. “Mara – I’ve blooded you. With my body. Not with a punch. You’re… like me now.”
I stared at him.
“I’m… a werewolf.”
“Fuck you. That’s not a funny joke, Greg. Now stop it.”
“No Mara. I am a werewolf. And in 2 weeks time, you will be too.”
I balled my hands into fists. My mind denied what he said, but my empathy told me that he was not lying – and that frightened me more than anything had in my whole life. He was telling me what would happen – that he was older than he looked – that I’d need help.. that he’d never leave me now…
Covering my ears I shook my head hard. “No! NO!” He stopped talking, looking at me with such pain on his face. “You hid this. You’ve lied to me. And now you’ve made me… “ I couldn’t finish it.
“Mara – please –“
I looked up at him, tears beginning to fill my eyes. “If in two weeks, nothing has happened – I’ll come back for my things and we will legally sign the dojo over to me and you will get the hell out of San Francisco. But if in two weeks…” I shivered, despite the oppressive heat in the room. “If I am… that… then you’re never going to see me again. And I never want to see you again.”
“Mara. Love. Please.”
I looked at him, wondering how we’d been together for 2 years if there was always this between us. “It was never going to work between us. How could it have? You’ve lied to me – giving me hope. You bloody bastard.” Tears began to pour down my cheeks.
He moved forward to touch me.
I slapped him across the face – something I never would have dreamed of. “I’m going to the apartment for my camera gear. You’re to stay here for the next 2 hours. If you come earlier than that, I swear on all I hold dear that all of San Francisco will know what you are.”
“Mara.. I’m sorry.”
“Not as much as I am, mate. Damn you, Greg. Damn you for not trusting me, and damn you for making me love you.” My voice broke as I left the dojang. I left with my bo staff. Going to the apartment we’d shared – I numbly collected my camera gear and a few small items. A suitcase of clothes and I left, closing the door behind me.
It was an empty threat to expose him. He knows that. But… now what happens to me?
I had one thought. A remote cabin owned by my agent. I called him and asked if he was using it. He said no. I told him I’d be there for the next three weeks… and could he please keep everyone away… I’d need the space to develop some new pictures… he said yes. I hung up and rented a car.
