Loras rounded Obi, standing in front of him, almost close enough to smell what the man had for breakfast. He clasped his fists over Obi's to stiffen the arms as he looked Obi in the eyes (very pretty eyes, it should be noted).
"Your face is part of your house," he pointed out steadily. The smile wasn't returned, but Loras thought about it. He wondered how often Obi smiled, and he thought he should do it more if he didn't do it very often. "Use your outer leg to pivot," he instructed, moving away finally to throw his own jab at the punching bag. It swung hard and Loras caught it between his hands. "These two," he said, removing one hand to touch the knuckles of Obi's index and middle fingers, "are your weapons. Everything else is just fire support."
He moved around to the other side of the bag to hold it still. "Take in a deep breath, think about where you want to aim, then let out the breath and give me a jab when you're ready."