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Faustite sat next to her date, the famous sports presenter in the UK, Caspian Wint, in the pub near her hotel in London. He had his left arm wrapped around her shoulders as he smoked a cigarette. This wasn’t the first date they had gone on; in fact this was the fourth...every day thus far after she appeared on his show he had asked her out. The first night, his choice, he took her to a fancy and expensive restaurant; the other three times were at this pub because Faustite was clearly out of her element in fine dining.

Many in the TV industry knew of Caspian’s penchant for the younger athletes that appeared on his show; When Faustite appeared four days ago to talk about her upcoming MMA fight, Caspian was immediately drawn to her. Not only was she over eighteen (twenty-seven and six months), she was often mistaken for a teenager because of her short stature and youthful face.

Faustite was known as the ‘demon of the ring’ due to her extremely chaotic style, never seeming to start the same way twice, and being extremely unpredictable with her attacks and defense. Some even likened the ‘Faust’ part of her name to the old story; that maybe she had sold her soul to be a great fighter. During the interview, when Caspian asked her about it, she neither confirmed or denied the rumor, merely giving a chuckle and a “who really knows?”

She finished off her third beer of the night after a meal of fish and chips for both of them; Caspian had half of his third as well, doing his best to keep pace with the young woman. After taking another drag of his cigarette, he moved his left arm down her back and around her waist, slipping his thumb up under her Metallica shirt.

“Tell me, Faustite...have you really sold your soul to the devil?” He asked, looking down at her.

Faustite chuckled. “Just call me Faust...and what if I did?” She asked teasingly, resting a hand on Caspian’s knee and softly stroking it with her thumb. “No, I didn’t; I just grew up watching Dragon Ball Z and other fighting shows and just picked things up over the years.” Faustite added honestly.

Caspian drew another breath from his cigarette, trembling a little and adjusting himself in the booth. “If I recall correctly, you said you never had a boyfriend or a girlfriend because of it.” He continued, more of his fingers slipping under her shirt to rest on her toned abs, his pinky slipping into her jeans.

“Most people are too intimidated by me no matter what I do outside the ring.” She chuckled in response. Sensing she had an idea of where this was leading, she slowly started to move her hand further up his thigh. “Maybe we could go up to my room and I could show you a few of my moves.” Faustite suggested with a playful smirk.

The same smirk appears on Caspian’s face. “I think I would enjoy a good show from you.” He responded.