Chapter Three: Combat Training

[backinthsaddle]

Cole's managed to get signed up, last minute, for one of the self-defense courses at his college to use as a refresher, and to learn some new techniques. But for now, he plans to start passing along what he already knows, so long as he can figure out the best way to be a teacher.

He has the workout room outfitted with floor mats and cleared of machines so there's enough room to spar without tripping over or falling into things, and he has handwraps in case things stray into boxing type territory. But he's going to see what she seems more comfortable with first, then go from there.

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[victormakesart.livejournal.com]

Victor slip-skulks into the room, in a lightweight long-sleeved shirt and loose pants. She almost wore short sleeves, because that's what you're supposed to wear when you work out, but she couldn't manage it. Her shirt is a terrific shade of green, the color of sunlight shining through a blade of grass.

"Hi," she mumbles, looking at the ground. She looks shy. Nervous. Her body-language is screaming fear, if you know what to look for. Sparring is scary. Sparring is contact. Sparring is someone's hands on her.