When Bullets Fly

Prologue

He stood on the beach, frozen. She stood facing the sea, water lapping at her feet. Her dress - a swirl of flames - gently winged around her, and her hair streamed out behind her ; voluminous locks of jet black blowing away, leaving her face bare and aglow. Her hands rose to shoulder level as she raised her face towards the sun. The rays of the dusk made her outline shine softly around the edges, as if she was slightly shining.

"I found you", he said.

Her eyes widened at the voice; she knew all too well. How was he here? No, what was he doing here? After all the effort she put in to forget him, to move on ; why?

She whipped around and stared. He was still as beautiful as her memory served. Tall, well-built and graceful ; like a dancer. Her eyes ran down the length of his arms ; she knew what it was like to run her hands down them. He was wearing all-black gear - jeans, a t-shirt and a hoodie that hugged him. Finally, she raised her eyes. Tangled black hair and eyes like blue orbs. Midnight blue orbs. A full mouth and long, long eyelashes. His face was angled and sharp around the jaws and cheekbones, and soft around the eyes. The memories came flooding and she felt her cheeks flame - of course she would know, wouldn't she? As she looked upon his familiar face her heart started to beat wildly against her ribcage. No, she thought. I can't let him shake me; not again.

"How did you find me? ", she asked. A simple enough question.

"I never stopped looking. That's how.",  he said. A simple enough answer.
She looked at him. He looked at her ; soft and in the way that only a wistful person would; she knew because he was looking deep into her eyes, intently searching for something. And she knew what that something was - forgiveness. A chance at redemption. A chance to try with her again. But why should I? she thought. She had been hurt enough both physically and mentally and she refused to let herself be put down.

" Where were you when I was taken?"
He remained silent, looking straight at her.
"Where were you when I needed you the most, Kai? "

He flinched when she spoke, the words cutting him like knives. He was sure that the hurt was plastered on his face, his mind registering with the slow realisation that his apology would never make things easier - he would still be the one who shot her and she would still be the one hurt; with a betrayal that would not let her rest in peace and a gunshot wound as a reminder. Nothing would change unless he made it right. But he didn't know how.