Ruby's Rountine

The day unfolded methodically as Ruby dove into her routine, using the familiar rhythm to push away lingering thoughts about the night before and the daunting task ahead. First, she tended to her plants. Her collection of greenery was scattered across her cozy apartment—succulents in small ceramic pots, leafy vines draped along shelves, and a vibrant monstera that occupied a corner near the window. She hummed softly to herself, carefully pouring water into each pot and ensuring every plant was thriving. The simple act of nurturing life soothed her nerves, grounding her in the moment.

After tidying her workspace and answering a few emails, Ruby slipped into a pair of sneakers and grabbed her gym bag, heading out for the most invigorating part of her day: her martial arts training. The dojo was a second home to her, a place where she felt utterly in control and confident in her abilities.

As she entered the training hall, the familiar scent of mats and the faint echo of practiced movements greeted her. She changed into her gi, tied her belt securely, and joined the others warming up. Ruby had been practicing martial arts for years, honing her body and mind to handle almost any challenge. She was fast, strong, and precise, her strikes packing surprising power for her frame.

During sparring matches, she often surprised her opponents with her skill. That day was no exception. She squared off against a larger male partner, her sharp focus evident in her stance. Within moments, she’d maneuvered around his strikes, countering with an expertly executed sweep that sent him tumbling to the mat. She extended a hand to help him up, a small smile on her lips.

“Good match,” she said lightly, earning a sheepish laugh and a nod in return.

What Ethan didn’t know—what she hadn’t shared—was that her martial arts training put her on an entirely different level than him physically. She could easily hold her own in a fight, her strength and precision far exceeding what her petite appearance might suggest. It wasn’t something she flaunted; it simply gave her a quiet confidence in her ability to handle whatever came her way.

After a rigorous session, Ruby showered at the dojo, feeling both energized and centered as she made her way home. The night loomed ahead, and though her stomach tightened at the thought of returning to the club, she steeled herself for the task.

Back at her apartment, Ruby rummaged through her closet, selecting an outfit that fit the atmosphere of the dance club. She opted for a loose, thigh-high black skirt that swayed with her movements and a snug crop top that accentuated her figure without being overly revealing. She slipped on a pair of ankle boots, adding a bit of edge to the ensemble.

In front of her vanity, she applied her makeup with precision. A soft pink lip gloss gave her lips a subtle sheen, and a touch of blush warmed her cheeks. She finished the look with a swipe of mascara and a hint of eyeliner that made her eyes pop. Her hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders, framing her face perfectly. The overall effect was polished yet approachable—ideal for blending into the nightclub crowd.

As she stood back and appraised herself in the mirror, Ruby couldn’t help but feel a pang of determination. Whatever awaited her at the club, she was ready. She grabbed her bag, slipped on her jacket, and headed out the door, the cool evening air brushing against her legs as she made her way into the night.