Gabriel was already in her corner before her opponent even arrived. She had the pleasure of entering first, strutting down the ramp with that imposing swagger—like a runway where she alone was the center of attention. As always, ignoring the fans along the sides who begged for a high-five. And when it was time to enter the ring, she did so by placing one knee on the apron, extending an arm along the rope to pose, balancing on one foot while holding herself up with the other. Smiling.
Her gaze was fixed on the entrance, as if expecting to catch even the faintest silhouette of her opponent. But there was nothing to see behind the black curtain.
That didn’t dampen the excitement of a romantic like her. Instead, she kept drawing attention. Swinging one leg over the ropes, then the other, stepping into the ring. From there, the rest was as expected from this Queen. Feigning patience now that she had reached her corner, leaning back against the ropes with her arms draped over them, one heel resting atop a turnbuckle. Waiting… until her opponent finally shows. And steps into the ring!
This was shaping up to be interesting.
Dion looked equal parts energetic and nervous. Almost like Gabriel. But the Queen hid it far better behind that wicked smile and piercing gaze. On the other hand, the girl from Verdun seemed far more focused on winning than the one from England.
If she managed to catch her eye, Gabriel would give her a wink, just to stir that nervousness.
DING DING DING
The Brit pushed herself off the ropes the moment the bell rang, squaring up with her hands raised as she approached Dion.
"
Ready to come out a winner?" she remarked with a touch of sarcasm, looking to strike a nerve.
