Now it was Konstantin with his back to the tree, panting and growling and cornered. He was tired, his lips pale and his face scrunched up. And then it was Jeremy’s turn to attack, his fists flying. There was a deadly grace to his movements, the way he twists and bends.
Jeremy closes in quickly, close enough that his punches get harder and faster. His blows land every time, never missing its mark: Konstantin’s face.
The impact of Jeremy’s fist against Konstantin sounded like a wall breaking in two and I winced every single time.
In a desperate attempt to get Jeremy off him, Konstantin reaches for the closest thing he could reach for, an entire table, and brings it down on Jeremy’s head. The wooden table nearly disintegrates on his back, fragments of wood and pieces of cutlery flying e
