Damon sat on his corner stool, wiping the sweat from his face and arms with a towel.
He took the water bottle from his cornerman and drank some water, feeling the cool liquid slide down his parched throat.
He was struggling to catch his breath, his chest heaving with exhaustion.
As he looked down at his hands, he saw that his palms were sweaty under his gloves. His knees felt weak, his arms heavy.
He tried to shake off the fatigue, but it was no use. He was tired, and he knew it.
Despite his calm exterior, Damon was nervous. He was worried that he might lose the fight if he didn't turn things around.
He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He needed to focus on the final round.
Damon thought about his plan for the last round. He wanted to take the fight to the ground.
He hadn't seen Edward do any groundwork, so he might have the upper hand. But he knew it wouldn't be easy.
