Daydreaming, part 5

—My turn!
The punch came with an impressive speed, like an agitated animal that had been held for a long time.
It made him flinch a bit, but as the second one came, he got steady. Her punches didn't get to be as powerful as the first one, but she was dedicated.
That was the rule, twenty punches at least 5 with each arm, at whatever timing, though not following the aggressive rhythm of the music was pretty hard. Then they exchanged places, she got to hold the defensive apparel and he got to punch. His ones hit harder, but she didn't want him to take it easy, and in case anyone took it easy, the tables would turn and it would be the time for the other to punch, had one the defensive apparel or not.
It was frantic, it was fun.
They could get hurt, but it was still a fair game.
He still couldn't believe she accepted to train with him. But it didn't matter what he believed or not. She was there, that was what counted.
And in the end, both were too tired already, sitting side by side, smiling, puffing.
She laid her head on his shoulder. She still looked cute. He took her hand, it wasn't over yet.
—One last round.
She giggled. A brief moment of silence. She got up almost instantly.
—My turn!
And at the secret ending of the training, a milkshake.