fcrtitudo:

           it’s probably strange that he’s fighting off a smile as blood trickles down from his nose. knox is sure it’s not broken, but it was pounding through his skull with pain. ❝ where the fuck did you learn to punch like that? you got a damn arm on ya’ that’s for sure. ❞ using the back of his sleeve to wipe off the blood, knox looked back at the man, ❝ sorry ain’t gonna cut it, i’m gonna need ya’ to buy me a drink. ❞

             to be able to smile through the pain he must surely be feeling - hell, to still be standing - this guy was tough. he thought he heard something crack over than skin against skin with the impact so he’s wondering his current state. but the praise allows a smile of his own to spread. “ a quarter of it’s eight years of kickboxing. the rest is all me. ” meaning anger, pent up energy, and the numerous fights he’d been in. he knew how to take someone down with only one hit. “ hell, i’d be glad to treat you. you’ve got my respect just from staying on your feet. ”