Chapter34:Reagan

Rage is said to come in blindfolded, in a moment when one loses their ability to logic. As Sabastian stands in front of me, hands in his pocket, I feel the rage. I feel my logic and sense of control slip. My eyes must narrow. My body lunges forward as my fist meets his face. The pain is a welcoming agony as it shoots up my hand to my wrist. Sabastian doesn't go down from my glorified punch. He retaliates, with a punch of his own to my gut, knocking the wind out of me, as I mimic his motion, and knee him in his stomach. He hunches and coughs and I go for an upper cut to his chin which he ducks and punches me solid in my sternum. I tackle him to the floor and we are both going at it. Fist after fist, the copper taste in my mouth, swelling on my jaw, thumping in my head is a mind pleaser as Sabastian goes down and lays on the floor staring up at the sky. Not sure why I don't knock him out, but I guess even in my rage there is some sanity, some feeling. History like ours doesn't go