Wrestle Fun

Aaron felt a rush of cool air against his skin as Elena lunged.

The sudden movement stirred the dust motes dancing in the moonlit room, their silent ballet momentarily disrupted by the playful chaos. Their bodies collided, a tangle of limbs and torsos, the impact a jarring thud against the worn, wooden floorboards.

Her warmth bled into him like a living thing, chasing away the night’s chill as their bodies pressed close. The old house answered them with complaint—floorboards crying out, walls shuddering as if amused by their careless collision, the walls vibrating with the force of their playful struggle.

He weaved and dodged, his movements fluid and instinctive, years of martial arts training ingrained in his muscle memory.

The faint scent of Elena's deodorant, a citrusy blend with a hint of musk, swirled around him with each near miss, a fleeting reminder of her closeness.

He could feel the whoosh of her punches and kicks, the air displaced by her movements brushing against his skin, sending shivers of excitement down his spine.

He countered with a series of rapid-fire karate chops, his hands a blur of motion, aiming for her torso, pulling his punches at the last moment. He felt the soft give of her muscles beneath his fingertips, the brief contact sending a jolt of awareness through him.

Elena groaned theatrically, her voice echoing in the room, a playful exaggeration of pain. She clutched her stomach, her fingers digging into the fabric of her shirt, her face contorted in mock agony. She staggered back, her steps deliberately unsteady, then, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, she sprang forward, catching him off guard with a swift uppercut to the chin.

The unexpected blow sent a jolt through his jaw, and the world tilted momentarily. He landed on the bed with a thud that sent dust motes swirling into the air, the soft mattress a welcome cushion. The ancient springs groaned beneath their combined weight, a metallic song of protest. Elena landed on top of him, her weight a comforting pressure, the soft fabric of her clothes brushing against his skin.

She pinned his wrists down with her thighs, her grip firm but playful. She delivered a series of mock punches to his face, the air puffing against his skin with each blow. He groaned in mock agony, exaggerating his head movements for comedic effect. He opened one eye, peeking at her through narrowed lids, and caught her triumphant grin.

“Ha! Stay down, champ—I win!” she laughed, grinning down at him like she’d just claimed a trophy.

Aaron chuckled, acknowledging his defeat. He knew he needed to work on his wrestling skills. He nodded in agreement, waving a hand dismissively.

He placed his hands on Elena's shoulders, the warmth of her skin seeping through the thin fabric of her shirt. A blush warmed his cheeks. He suddenly realized how late it was. Midnight had come and gone. Their parents would be home soon, and the thought sent a ripple of anxiety through him. They needed to get to sleep.