ɢᴇᴍɪɴɪᴅᴀᴇ

C O N N E C T I O N
WEARING: XxX.
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Palm could feel the force of Aerik's punches, his intent sharp, driven. Each jab he threw was calculated, yet beneath the surface, there was something more—something deeper. She could feel it in the air between them, that underlying energy, the pulse of power waiting to be harnessed.
He was holding back, and she understood why. Yet something deep within her wanted him to let go.
She had felt it before, that kind of rhythm. In the bond with her twin brother, they could fight as one, in perfect synchrony. It was not just their training or the Force—it was a connection beyond physicality, beyond conscious thought. Palm had lived her life in harmony with another soul, and now, she saw that same potential in Aerik. He had a natural sense of unity within him, not yet realized, not yet tapped into its full depth.
As Aerik's uppercut came for her, Palm didn't dodge in the traditional sense. Instead, she shifted her stance just enough so the punch skimmed past her cheek, her hand grazing his forearm. The light touch wasn't a block but more a subtle redirection. She wasn't avoiding him—she was pulling him in closer.
Palm's mind reached out, gently nudging his awareness through the Force, not to overpower, but to connect. She wasn't his opponent here, not in the traditional sense. She wasn't trying to teach, only to show him what was possible. Aerik's energy called for it, the instinct of his heritage demanding a deeper connection. She could feel his wariness, his fear of losing control, but Palm wasn't afraid of that. She understood the need to sync, to find that balance between instinct and intention - for both of them to be able to go all out.
She invited him into that space now. Not with words, but with action.
Palm looked at him, her movements adjusting to his as if they were a mirror, as if each of hers knew exactly what was coming from him, and at the same time opening her stance so the pup could read her next. At first it would be hard, conscious, but if he was receptive enough that would soon change. Allowing the natural flow of their bodies to dictate the next steps. Aerik had the strength; she could feel the raw power behind his punches, but Palm could offer the balance—an equilibrium, where they could both push to their limits without losing themselves.
In the attempt to align their energies, Palm stopped resisting entirely, falling into the flow of their movements. She caught his next punch, not with resistance, but with a movement that let it flow through her, guiding her in sync with him. She aimed to meet him strike for strike, her body anticipating his moves, not because she was reacting to him, but because she was moving with him. It wasn't about dominance; it was about unity.
Palm's amber eyes met his once again, and this time, there was no barrier. No restraint. Just the pure, harmonious flow of two warriors finding their rhythm together. In this shared moment, there was no fear of losing control, no worry about holding back—only the perfection of the dance they were creating. Her eyes held a silent question, was he ready to let go?