The room was dimly lit, with little to no light beamed from the arched windows. Though it was never silent for haughty grunts and mumbles echoed within four corners of the chamber.
Athan huffed aloud, this time, as he had several rounds of push-ups—one hand at a time—never losing a beat from his rhythmic workout.
His body glistened, akin to adorned jewels, from his rigid and firm muscles on his bare torso. Sweat became his second skin, coating him well and went drip by drip as his face grimaced from pushing to the limits.
After an hour, he took a stop; he stood—hands on his waist and looked at the ceiling from the euphoria that rushed into him—with his chest rising and falling ever-so-quickly.
'I seem to gain strength from this.' He then glanced at his toned body, flexing his arms and a subtle twist in his hips. 'I need to cool down…'
After his hand grazed over his chiseled abs, he took another round of stretches from his neck down to his ankles.
