Prizefighter

The draft from the front door swept down into the living room: apparently it had been left open for a good amount of time if it was letting in this much cold air. There was a sound of uncertain, slow scuffling, and a groan from whoever came in as they attempted to close the door. The shuffling noise continued for a short time before there was a loud thump against the wall, and a dragging noise as whoever it was supported themselves on the wall as they stumbled to the stairs.

Eventually, Louis made it down the staircase, gritting his teeth at the pain burning all over his body. His duffel bag, for once, wasn't with him, but he did have his boxing gloves tied together by the strings and thrown over the back of his neck. His lip had been busted somehow, and bruises of various sizes and shades covered his face and neck. He coughed slightly, dropping the gloves on the floor and collapsing on the couch, faceup. A few wet coughs rose from his throat, and he covered his mouth with a hand to stifle them. When he pulled the hand away, there was tiny flecks of blood on his palm and the corner of his mouth.

Thank god nobody was up, he thought. He could have a little time to rest before he tried going upstairs to recover. The last thing the Crizler twins needed was more problems: he didn't want them to worry, they already did so much.

His arm ached. A lot. Louis rolled his left arm around in its socket, testing it. He found it wasn't broken, just very sore. Like he needed any more injuries.

It had been made clear to him when he started that this was going to happen sooner or later, but he hadn't ever imagined he would meet a guy so quick on his feet who had so much power. Maybe it was time for a change of tactics.

Louis winced and hissed as she touched the scratch, batting her hand away gently. Her fingers were dwarfed against his, but even so his motions were weak and shaky. He took a raspy breath and coughed again, covering his mouth and turning away from her before wiping his sleeve against his lips to cover the fact that more blood had risen from his throat.

He tested his voice, which came up as a thin grumble at first before it evened out into a quaking baritone. "Don' fret 'bout me s'much..." Somehow he wasn't shy of talking to her, not now that she had seen him broken and beaten. However, he was still reluctant to explain exactly what had happened, so he closed his mouth and stifled another cough.

He frowned and reluctantly look the water, bracing his arms against the arm of the couch to sit up. Louis drank the contents of the glass slowly, with many intermittent coughs, before handing the empty glass back to Cori. He was a little too late to cover up the blood that rose in the cough that followed, however, and smeared it across his jaw as he tried to look away from the girl. "Y'don' 'ave to..." he mumbled softly.

His face reddened at the touch of his hand, and he pulled away a little as she touched his jaw. It was so pathetic, the way he had gotten like this, he didn't even want to tell her. In his mind he thought, no, I don't want more water, I doubt I can hold it down, but the athlete in him knew more water was always the answer, so he nodded slowly

Louis shook his head slowly and tried to turn over and face away from her.

His face turned bright red as she ran her fingers over the palm of his hand, and his fingers twitched, curling up and brushing against the back of hers. Louis stared at the couch, trying to hold back, but... he really knew he should tell Cori what happened.

"Lost a fight..." he mumbled, frowning.

He moved farther away, pressing into the back of the couch, and stared up at the ceiling to avoid her gaze. "Don' remember 'is name... was a swarmer." That was definitely a wrestling term, and had she asked he would have explained that the term as a boxer who has great stamina and was quick on his feet with a good punch: a combination hard to achieve, but a great counter for his own style, the heavy-hitter brawler type which centered on sheer power and the ability to knock an opponent out in one shot if they could ever catch them to land the hit.

Louis chanced a glance back at the girl, and his face turned immediately red: her own cheeks were turning. He licked his lips and stared back up at the ceiling.

Cori drops his hand sadly, and rubs her thighs. So it wasn't a Shadow? She asks, rubbing her arms, and staring at her toes. The wrestling gibberish totally flew past her, but she didn't think he felt like explaining it to her.

Louis shook his head. "Jus' a human..." he mumbled, face turning redder. It was so embarassing to admit he'd been bested by a mere human. He'd had a good bit of prize money riding on that fight, too: enough to buy enough food for the family for almost half a week. He turned his head back to her an began to speak again, softly. "Don' worry, Cori, I'm fine--" but he was cut off as he began to cough again.

Louis cleared his throat and glanced back up at her. "... thanks," he mumbled, blushing dark red and touching the scratch on his face gently.

Louis sat up a little and glanced at her. "I, uh... should go ta bed, so..." He didn't want to ask her for help, but he knew he probably couldn't stand and walk straight enough to make it upstairs.

He gave Cori a weak smile and stood shakily. Instead of holding her hand, he draped an arm around her shoulders and tried not to lean on her too much. Of course, he also made sure to pretend to be interested in something across the room so she wouldn't see his face turning red.

Louis reached out and braced his other arm on a wall to alleviate the weight from Cori's shoulders. He mumbled an apology to her, placing his hand gently on her thin shoulder.

She helps him into his room, and eases him onto the bed. Do you need me to bring you anything? She asks concerned that if he suddenly needed something in the middle of the night he wouldn't be able to get up. Maybe she should just stay with him in one of the other bunks...

%Should she stay with him?

((She lives in the same cell anyway, he won't object if she wants to stay in the same part of the room.))

Louis shook his head and coughed slightly again before slowly removing his heavy jacket and tshirt, dropping them both on the floor by his feet, and kicking off his boots. Usually the jeans would go to, but he wasn't in any state to try to negotiate those, and Cori had enough of an eyeful without him taking off the rest of his clothes, he thought. This was partially normal, any more was indecent.