Fiori gave the sword another swing, form more structured this time. More serious. It wasn't often that he sparred alone, but the movements came to him easily: parry, dodge, and thrust. His footwork was clean, almost graceful as he began to really move.
"I don't want it from you." He did. So badly it stung his pride. He was supposed to be better than this, supposed to be honorable, but Levi was right when he said he didn't know how to care for a sword. He was right when he said Fiori did. "It's yours. I couldn't possibly…" He paused, giving the sword in his hands a yearning look as he swung it in a wide arc. The words died on his tongue. "…I just couldn't."
(Here! It's a little short, but it's about the kind of response you can expect from me content/style wise.)