In a private room down the hall, six friends were scattered around, lounging on the couches, yet all were fully focused on the fight playing on the big screen.
The intensity of the match had everyone on edge.
Damon sat next to Svetlana, an arrangement orchestrated by their friends, but neither seemed to mind.
When the bell rang to end the first round, everyone let out a collective sigh of relief, letting go of the stress that had built up over the first five minutes of action.
Ash leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, while Tyr shook his head in amazement at the war unfolding between Whittier and Chemasov.
Damon leaned back on the couch, brushing lightly against Svetlana's arm.
She glanced at him with a small smile, and without words, the two shared a moment of silent acknowledgment.
Both of them didn't seem uncomfortable, but there was a deeper connection between them that hadn't been there before.
