everything i can't have// Gryphon

MICHAEL RIDGEFIELD

“Forty-nine, fifty.” Michael grunted and put the barbell back on the rack. Last set of the day. It was imperative that he kept himself in tip-top shape for the games, but that didn’t mean it was the only reason he worked out. The training center wasn’t just a place to stay in shape, it was a place to look good, and a place to find some fun. And more than anything, Michael needed to get laid. Maybe it’d help him forget the last girl. Or keep him from having to think about his parents. It was win-win, really.

There was a girl with cheekbones so sharp he could cut his fingers on them. She caught his attention immediately, and it definitely wasn’t because he was on the rebound. Nope, it was because her necklace stood out, that and the motion of her hips. She was wearing a cat’s eye. It wasn’t the most expensive of gems, but it was interesting. A cat’s eye. Yeah, he could tell precious stones apart. There was more to him than just a pretty face. There was also a dirty joke in there somewhere, but he held off. There was time for that later.

Instead, he kept watching her. She had a permanent pout etched on her face, like she wasn’t happy to be in the training center. She also had a dancer’s grace about her, the way the knives sort of glided out of her hands. She wasn’t dressed to stand out, the way most of the girls in the training center did, but that kind of made her stand out all the more. And those eyelashes; God, he could feel them fluttering against his cheek already.

One of his ex’s had once told him that he was shallow but that couldn’t be right, if he was shallow, why had he spent the last ten minutes admiring this girl who seemed to be doing her best not to stand out? Michael stretched and took a long swig from his water bottle. It was time to find out if her name was as gorgeous as the rest of her. He strolled nonchalantly towards the throwing knife range with a little swagger in his step, he had confidence in spades; came with the territory of being as attractive as he was.

It was hard being beautiful, sometimes. He waited until she had thrown the last knife in her set and leaned on the weapon rack. Even so, he towered over her. “Not half bad,” he crooned. “I’ll let you decide if I’m talking about your knife skills or that outfit you have on.” Michael stretched, leaning forward in a way he knew effortlessly showed off his good side. Not that he had a bad one. The familiar playful smirk slid into place on his mouth.

“Name’s Michael. Wanna get out of here? You look like you want to be somewhere else.” This was his favorite part of it all. Whether they melted under his gaze instantly or played hard to get, he was looking to have some fun.