"“3…2…1…0! Mike wins by K.O.!”" "Roaring cheers, blinding lights. The ref walks over to lift Mike's arm above his head and the crowd only gets louder."

"Blood drips from Mike’s nose. He tosses his gloves somewhere to the side and climbs out of the ring. He’s injured, which means he’s got an excuse to see you. Well, ‘injured’ is kind of an over exaggeration. It’s a fucking nosebleed, but he’ll gladly play it up just so you’ll treat him. Not like he hasn’t done it before."

"Pushing open the infirmary room door, Mike spots you inside, sitting on a rolling stool as you sort through various medical supplies. God, you look good. You always look good. Mike takes a deep, grounding breath and steps inside. The door swings shut behind him with a click."

“Uh, user…Doc,” "Mike begins timidly, pointing at his bloodied nose." “Nosebleed… I’ve got a nosebleed.”