The Naive Rebel | ✓

♛| xx : in or i |

Handcuffs.

The metal tightly bounds around my wrists and is chained to the hook nailed on the wall. I tug my hands harder against the metal but it leaves me withering in pain.

I shift and move, shove my legs. Pushing them harder I sit up with my back sloping on the wall my hands are fastened to. My arms ache as they lie in an uncomfortable position.

I look around, struggling to guess the place I am in but all I receive is emptiness.

"You are awake," a rough voice echoes in the vacant room. I move my head to see the source of the sound but the excruciating lime hued light prevents me from seeing the figure leaning across the room.

"Who are you?" I manage to spew, infuriated at the man who had tied me.

"Don't you dare use that tone," he commands and I can see the figure shifting and striding forward but the subtle darkness shields his face.

"Now...tell me who are you, Aayat Mishra?" The voice questions as the familiarity slowly seep in.

My gaze is on the man's silhouette, as he walks closer. The amber light finally able to unmask his face.

"You?" I angrily point, for some reason, I am not shocked, instead, I feel anger simmering inside of me.

"Yes, me." His face is bare of any reactions. He stands there with his one hand tucked inside his jeans' pocket, looking at me with suspicion filled eyes.

"What if I repeat the same question, who are you?" I sneer at him.

A dark chuckle leaves his mouth, his eyes exploring my helplessness with an unadulterated amusement.

"Between us, you are the one tied, Aayat. You think you have the superiority to challenge me?" He comments, bringing the gun he is holding to my notice. The silver polished weapons manage to shine its glory in the gloominess.

"Let us skip all this bullshit and focus on the main topic. What the fuck were you doing at the club?"

"Why should I answer you?" I reply glaring at him. He tsk's and kneels on the ground.

The cool metallic substance against my sweaty forehead doesn't manage to help my misery. I try maintaining my cool but I know how confused and scared I am at this moment.

He shakes his head in disapproval, "If you don't answer now, the bullet is going to pass right through this empty skull of yours."

"And unlike you, I know how to use the gun." He mocks and I realise that he was present at the club. He did see my exchange with those inebriated men.

"So you are with the gang," I conclude. My father's genes in me are finally activated as I try solving the case even when my life is at risk.

"We are not playing twenty questions here. You do realise that I can fucking kill you-right here, right now."

"Can you stop swearing? It's irritating." My mind is taking its own sweet time to process the sudden transformation his character has gone through in a single day.

The person who used to apologise after using the word shit is now swearing as if it is his first language. I closely observe the changes he had gone through since morning-the rugged bearded face is now replaced with a little stubble.