[ You know, this round was going pretty well, and Peter had almost tricked himself into thinking he might actually have this one.
He doesn't, though. Of course he doesn't. And things go wrong probably around a minute or so in, where she had feinted left and he had fallen for it, and it had put him on the defensive without an opening to regain his ground. Her hand closes around his wrist, and something like panic spikes in him, prickly and hot and demanding an outlet, though it's soon forgotten as loses his footing, as his back slams down against the mats again.
The air rushes out of him, and— whoa, when did he end up down here? That's weird. Wasn't he standing just a second ago? ]
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He doesn't, though. Of course he doesn't. And things go wrong probably around a minute or so in, where she had feinted left and he had fallen for it, and it had put him on the defensive without an opening to regain his ground. Her hand closes around his wrist, and something like panic spikes in him, prickly and hot and demanding an outlet, though it's soon forgotten as loses his footing, as his back slams down against the mats again.
The air rushes out of him, and— whoa, when did he end up down here? That's weird. Wasn't he standing just a second ago? ]