The Revenge

Chapter 7 - Dark Infatuation.

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Faith

He led me into the court, which was a room filled with many benches, tables, and cupboards arranged thoughtfully. In the middle stood a tennis court, its surface now covered in a light layer of dust, indicating the echoes of past matches that once filled the space.

***

Moonlight bathed the empty tennis court in silver shine. Eleven p.m., and here stood Kabir, a predator disguised as an instructor, across the net from Faith. Three hours, he made her play - three relentless hours, sweat soaking her clothes, hair plastered to her face. Now, her face was pale, fear shimmering in her wide, hazel eyes.

"That's the baseline," Kabir said, his voice like a serpent. "Cross it, and you lose."

"Backhand volley," Kabir's voice rasped, each word a shard, "keep your wrist firm, hit it just off-center."

Faith obeyed, the racket swinging awkwardly in her trembling hands.

"Footwork, Faith," he'd hiss, the ball a venomous bullet going past her ear. "Sharp, like your lies. Or they'll catch you again."

"I didn't..." her voice, a trembling like a bird once flew, was lost in the hollow air. Fear gripped her like a snake, wrapping around her. She didn't know about his revenge plan; her past was a blank page to his messed-up ideas.

"Forehand, left side," Kabir barked, not once offering a smile or a word of encouragement. His voice, devoid of emotion, sent shivers down Faith's spine. She felt scared every time he came near, his tall figure making big shadows in the bright lights.

She tripped backward with each shot, barely hitting back. It wasn't tennis; it felt more like a hard test, a tough way of showing control. "Please," she rasped, her voice hoarse, "can't we stop?"

He stopped just inches from her, his breath hot on her ear. "Stop? Not even close, Faith."

His words hurt, each one a painful reminder of his mysterious past.

Fear had been with her since the first scary meeting, the initial shadow on the edge of her vision. This man, a stranger with a dark aura, claimed she wronged him, but why? And how?

He served the ball hard under the moonlight. Faith tried to hit it, but barely did. The ball flew past, clipping her cheek, leaving a crimson mark. She cried out, not from pain, but from the crushing weight of his hatred.

"You think you can hide forever, Faith?" he snarled, stepping closer, his shadow swallowing her whole. "These games won't save you."

She flinched, tears glittering in her doe eyes. "I-I don't understand," she stammered, voice barely a whisper. "Who are you? Why are you doing this?"

His lips curled into a cruel, mocking smile. "You don't remember? Don't remember the lies you said, the whispers that stripped me bare?"

His words were arrows, piercing her heart. "I... I've never..." she stammered, fear choking her.

A growl ripped from his throat. He grabbed her wrist, his touch like ice on her skin. "Don't play innocent," he hissed, his breath hot against her cheek. "You can't escape the truth, not here, not tonight."

His eyes now burned with cold fire. "Nowhere to run now, Faith. No one to hear your sweet lies this time."

He leaned in, his face full of anger, and she flinched, expecting a hit. But instead, his lips crashed against hers forcefully, like a hot iron on her trembling mouth.
Her body stiffened, a startled cry trapped in her throat. A fiery kiss, claiming territory like a branding iron.

She struggled, hands pushing against his chest, but he absorbed her resistance like a hungry flame. Yet, as his lips moved on hers, as the scent of vanilla filled his senses, something shifted within him. The intense hate faded, facing a new warmth, an odd ache. Faith felt salty tears, her eyes filling up. She tried to push him away, but he was as firm as a mountain.

A loud slap broke the silence of the night. Kabir pulled back, surprised, with a hint of something unclear on his face. Then, a slow smile appeared on his lips.

"Once again," he challenged, his voice husky. "Slap me again, and I'll kiss you again."

Her touch, even in anger, surprised him. Her innocence, the softness in her eyes, poked at something deep inside him, something he believed had died in the darkness of his revenge. His hate fought with a strange, unwanted attraction, a hunger he couldn't understand.

Faith's hand hovered in the air, fear battling defiance. He wasn't the complete monster she dreaded. He was a messed-up version, a guy balancing on the edge of sanity, trapped in his own poison.

Under the cold moon and the night's hum, something changed. The distinction between revenge and another feeling, something raw and surprising, got blurry. Kabir noticed it in the way her chin trembled and the fire in her eyes. He saw his own confusion mirrored in her, a reflection of the mess he had become.

The tennis court, shimmered with the possibility of something else. Forgiveness? Redemption? He didn't know. But one thing was certain: the game had just begun, and the rules were about to change.

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