Alex- Occupational hazard

The evening shift had started quietly, the usual mix of gym-goers trickling in—some after work, some trying to squeeze in a late workout. I was checking someone’s form on the bench press when the door swung open, and like clockwork, Liam walked in.

But tonight, something was different.

He wasn’t his usual composed self. His broad shoulders were tense, his jaw set in a hard line. The golden fire in his eyes burned hotter tonight, an intensity that seemed to darken his whole demeanor. Whatever it was, he was radiating frustration, and it hit me the moment he stepped into the room.

Liam didn’t waste time. He walked straight to the corner where the boxing bag hung, barely acknowledging anyone when he slipped his hands into the gloves he’d brought with him. His movements were sharp, almost aggressive, and when his fists started hammering the bag, the raw power in each strike was enough to make my chest tighten.

The chain holding the bag groaned under the force of his punches, and the bag swung wildly, each hit a blow that seemed fueled by whatever storm was raging inside him. For a second, I just stood there, transfixed, feeling a strange mix of concern and admiration.

I didn’t even realize I’d moved until I was standing in front of him, holding the bag to steady it. The impact of his next punch nearly knocked me off balance, but I braced myself, gripping the bag tightly to stop it from swinging.

"Hey," I said, my voice steady but soft. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Liam froze for half a second, his fist hovering mid-air. Then, he shook his head, his lips pressing into a thin line.

"It’s nothing," he muttered, his voice low and rough.

"It doesn’t seem like nothing," I replied, keeping my tone gentle. His shoulders were still tense, his breathing heavy. Whatever had gotten under his skin, it was eating at him. "Sometimes it helps to let it out."

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he threw another punch, this one slower, less forceful. Then another, and another. His strikes began to even out, their rhythm steadying as I kept the bag still.

I watched his face while he worked through his frustration, the anger slowly bleeding away. The lines around his eyes softened, and the rigid set of his jaw relaxed. His breathing slowed, the wild intensity in his eyes fading into something calmer, more controlled.

"You’re good at this," he said suddenly, his voice quieter now.

"Good at what?" I asked, surprised.

"Talking people down," he said, throwing another light punch. This time, I barely had to brace the bag. "Making them feel like they’re not… spiraling."

I gave a small shrug, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. "Occupational hazard, I guess. People come here to blow off steam, and sometimes that means more than just lifting weights or hitting a bag."

He nodded, his gaze flicking to mine for a brief moment before dropping back to the bag.

"It’s been a long day," he admitted after a pause, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Work?" I prompted, not wanting to push but hoping he’d open up a little more.

He hesitated, then nodded again. "Something like that."

I didn’t press further. Instead, I held the bag steady and let him keep working through whatever was weighing on him. His punches had lost their anger, each one now deliberate, focused. The suffocating heat of his earlier frustration had dissipated, leaving a quieter, steadier presence in its place.

After a while, he stopped, stepping back and pulling off his gloves. He ran a hand through his dark hair, damp with sweat, and let out a long breath.

"Thanks," he said, his golden eyes meeting mine. There was something raw in his gaze, something unguarded that made my chest tighten.

"Anytime," I said, managing a small smile. "That’s what I’m here for."

He nodded, his expression softening just a fraction before he turned and headed toward the water fountain.

I watched him go, my heart still racing, though I wasn’t sure why. Liam Kane was a mystery. A storm contained in a man who looked like he could conquer the world. For some reason, I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to be the calm in his chaos.

Liam grabbed a drink from the water fountain, his broad shoulders rising and falling with deep, steady breaths. The tension had drained from his frame, but I could still feel a lingering heaviness around him, like the storm hadn’t completely passed.

I busied myself putting the boxing gloves back on the rack, trying to give him some space while my thoughts spiraled. I didn’t know much about Liam outside of the gym.

He wasn’t the kind of guy who chatted idly or offered up personal details. And I wasn’t the type to push. But tonight, I’d seen a side of him I didn’t expect. The anger, the frustration, and it wasn’t just work stress. It was deeper than that.

When I turned back, Liam was still standing by the water fountain, staring at nothing in particular. His golden eyes had lost their earlier fire, replaced by a distant, almost haunted look.

Before I could second-guess myself, I found my feet moving toward him. "Hey," I said softly, coming to a stop a few feet away. "You okay?"

Liam blinked, like he’d forgotten where he was, and turned to look at me. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just studied me with that intense gaze of his. Then he sighed, running a hand through his hair again.

"Yeah," he said finally, though the word felt hollow. "I’m fine."

"You don’t have to lie to me," I said gently, crossing my arms and leaning up against the wall. "I’m not going to pry, but if you need to talk, I’m here. Sometimes it helps to let it out, even if it’s just to someone who doesn’t know the full story."

His lips twitched, almost like he wanted to smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "You always this persistent?"

"Only when I think someone could use a little help," I said with a shrug.

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "You’re something else, you know that?"

"I’ll take that as a compliment," I said, giving him a small grin.

That earned a low chuckle from him, the sound warm and rough, and it did something to my chest I wasn’t ready to acknowledge.

Liam leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms. For a moment, he seemed to debate whether to say more, his jaw working like he was chewing over the words.

"It’s… complicated," he said finally, his voice quieter now.

"Most things are," I replied, keeping my tone light.

He glanced at me, his eyes narrowing slightly, like he was trying to decide if he could trust me. The silence stretched, but I didn’t push. If he wanted to talk, he’d talk. If not, I’d let it go.

"I don’t usually let people see me like that," he said at last, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I’m not the kind of guy who loses his cool."

"You didn’t lose your cool," I said. "You just needed an outlet. We all do, sometimes."

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "I don’t think you get it, Alex. For me, it’s… dangerous."

The way he said it sent a chill down my spine, but I pushed it aside. "Dangerous how?"

Liam looked at me then, and for a second, I thought he might actually tell me. But just as quickly as the moment came, it was gone. His expression shifted, the walls going back up, and he straightened, pushing off the wall.

"Forget it," he said, his tone clipped. "I’m fine."

Before I could respond, he grabbed his bag from the bench and slung it over his shoulder.

"Thanks for holding the bag," he said, his voice softer now. "I’ll see you around."

And just like that, he was gone, leaving me standing there with more questions than answers.

I didn’t know what Liam was dealing with, but whatever it was, it ran deep. There was a weight to him, a heaviness that I couldn’t ignore. And as much as I wanted to respect his boundaries, part of me couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed someone to remind him that he didn’t have to carry it all alone.

But who was I to be that person? I was just his trainer, a guy who barely knew him outside of his gym routine. And yet, there was something about him that pulled me in, something I couldn’t explain.

Shaking my head, I turned back to the boxing gloves I’d put away earlier, running my fingers over the worn leather.

"Careful, Alex," I muttered to myself. "Getting involved with someone like Liam Kane is probably the last thing you need."