Willow.
It had only been two days since I stepped back into the stone cold routine of the Institute but my body had already remembered the rhythm. Up before the sun, sweat before food and fists before feelings. The grind and the weight and the discipline was all muscle memory by now.
“Damn. You miss us or just couldn’t stay away from my pretty face?” James called out across the training yard as I twisted midair to slam my heel into a recruit’s padded shoulder, knocking him flat.
I caught the smirk on his lips as I turned sweat rolling down my jaw. I should’ve laughed. I did, kind of. But it felt hollow even in my own throat. I’ve missed him and his messy sort of jokes but I don’t ever admit it to him and he knows that.
“I missed beating your ass in training.” I said grabbing a towel
