Jacob knows Charles is watching. Knows it and revels in it, fighting harder and with more flair than he might do otherwise. If you can't show off for your man, who can you show off for?
The last fight left him a little bloody, with a graze over his cheek when scale-covered knuckles had connected, and the beginnings of a bruise. But it's nothing, nothing at all compared with the rush of adrenaline.
And the fact these people seem to know his name. Stands to reason, considering the merchandise he saw on the upper decks. Still, there's something to having people cheer you by name. Something that makes his grin grow wider as he strides to where Charles watches, waiting for the next challenger.
"How am I doing?" He asks, lips forming a flirtatious smirk.
But not for long. There's a grunt behind him and a tall, broad creature steps into the ring. Like a doberman, if a doberman had fists and walked on two legs. And had eyes as red as coals.
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The last fight left him a little bloody, with a graze over his cheek when scale-covered knuckles had connected, and the beginnings of a bruise. But it's nothing, nothing at all compared with the rush of adrenaline.
And the fact these people seem to know his name. Stands to reason, considering the merchandise he saw on the upper decks. Still, there's something to having people cheer you by name. Something that makes his grin grow wider as he strides to where Charles watches, waiting for the next challenger.
"How am I doing?" He asks, lips forming a flirtatious smirk.
But not for long. There's a grunt behind him and a tall, broad creature steps into the ring. Like a doberman, if a doberman had fists and walked on two legs. And had eyes as red as coals.