The Fierce Flame

17|| the big thing

The big thing.

My hands press my mouth as I watch a horde of men in black coming our way. My feet inwardly walk back, making my back slam against Reyansh's chest. His fingers grip my waist, balancing me on my feet.

"Ready for the action?" he whispers calmly.

I find myself shaking my head. I should've asked him what the big thing was, instead of agreeing to it and walking out of the room with him at my back.

"Just watch." The next moment, I find him sauntering towards those men. A man twice Reyansh's body size hurls towards him, with a silver bat in his hand. He swings it towards Reyansh. If not for him ducking his body at the right time, his head would've been smashed against the steel bat. The muscular men again launch themselves at him, but Reyansh kicks one on his stomach, sending him to kiss the floor.

Three more launch towards him, their hands wrapped around the same steel bat. Reyansh stands in the middle, his predator gaze looking at them calmly. I plaster my back on the cold wall, eyes fixed on him. I jerk as I see him lifting his leg and kicking the man right at his knees. His groan echoes in the room, followed by another one, as Reyansh swings his feet across the man on his right, ducking his head to save himself from the swing of the bat from the man on his left.

I alternate between breathing through my nose and mouth to remain calm.

The man on the left throws away his weapon, ready to hit his fist on Reyansh's face. However, Reyansh crashes his fist against his chest, making a crack audible in the air. The man drops dead on the spot. God, I definitely didn't mean to see a man beaten to death when I complained about my boring life to you.

Reyansh stands between the men who roll their bodies on the floor in whimper. A mirth dances in his eyes as he unapologetically stares at those men whimpering in pain.

In the next instant, he connects his gaze with me as he bends down, picking the bat from the floor.

"And, you call this your little action? When you said your big thing will have a little action in it." I utter, my knees shaking.

"Believe me, this is just a warm-up." He darts his eyes on me.

It doesn't help me in stopping the shiver of my legs. Sweat sticks on my forehead. If this is a warm-up, what is the action.

"Hurry up!" I flinch away from my thoughts, my body sending in a panic when I see his back walking ahead.

A squeal leaves my mouth as I lift my dress, hurrying to catch him, passing by the groaning man. My heels click against the floor as I closely follow behind him.

From the corner of my eyes, I see a man running towards us with his gun. Before I could utter a warning, his head is smashed against the wall. The skull bursts on the wall, crimsoning the white wall and marble floor, even sprinkling some on my dress. My stomach twists; I wanted to look away from the gore scene, but my eyes remain fixated on the numb body, bathed in the smell of death, covering itself in his own blood.

He appeared nothing less than Smaira. An incident reflecting in my mind, but I am quick enough to shake it away. She is gone. Don't think.

"C'mon!" I look at the extended hand before me. Taking it was tempting, but I don't. I walk past him, his footsteps following me behind.

I hear him curse under his breath. Before I can turn to face him, he catches me by my arms, "We have to hurry. For that, you will close your eyes when I say so. Do you agree?"

Another déjà vu hits me. Wasn't it the same closing of my eyes when I was five years ago trapped in the middle of a gunfire? His gaze held scrutiny, trying to figure out what ran down my brain.