Pretty Flame

You sat on the floor close to hyperventilating as you tried to understand what just happened. Just a second ago you were fetching water from the well outside your house, and the next you're back against the gates surrounding your house after a blur suddenly comes to a stop.

You look around to see the side of your house completely caved in as a figure disintegrates to ashes that disappear as it's taken by the wind. In between you and the disintegrating figure is a man with hair akin to flames. His hair flows in the wind like a fire flickering and his cape flutters behind him, matching the flames of his hair. In his hands, he sheathes a sword with a flame hilt. He looks back at you and with a blinding smile he asks, "Are you okay?"

You freeze upon seeing his smiling expression. In your eyes, he's shining—no, bursting a beautiful light around himself like he were from the heavens above. He was as eye-catching as the fireworks exploding in the sky, demanding your attention. You couldn't keep your eyes off him, even to the point of ignoring the need to blink. Despite your fear from the scene seconds ago, you heart was beating faster by the second because of him.

You were so awestruck, all that left your lips as your reply was, "Pretty..."

The man blinked once, then several times upon hearing your words. His ears burned to match the color of his hair as he let your words sink in. He raised a brow as he fully turned toward you and offered a hand to you. "Are you hurt in anyway?"

Now that you can fully see him with that cape out of the way, you can see just how right you were. He's so beautiful. He's wearing a dark brown uniform that could pass as black with a white belt around his waist. The belt accentuated the curve of his body made by his large chest. His cape gave him a dependable appearance, one that can make you feel at ease if you caught a glimpse of its familiar colors. He's completely eye-catchingly beautiful.

His hand is ignored by your awestruck state, but he doesn't relax his hand. He still reaches out to you, but kneels down to meet your eyes. "Did the demon hurt you?"

His voice was deep, and by god was it so comforting. If dependable were to be a real, living person, it would be the man kneeling before you. How can someone be so perfect in more ways than one? He has it all, even you wrapped around his calloused fingers without being aware of it.

His eyes, a golden yellow and burning red irises, looked you over up and down. You felt your body burn with nervousness as his eyes examined your figure. He wasn't checking you out, but you wouldn't hate it. It would be a blessing to have this man be somewhat attracted to you.

"You don't seem to be injured, can you stand?" He asks. He doesn't get up but he straightens his back. His hand still stretched out to you, and you finally take it. He smiles again and says, "I'm glad you can stand."

"You're so beautiful," you say breathlessly as he pulls you to your feet.

His cheeks match the burning of his ears at your compliment. His smile doesn't falter, but he is completely embarrassed and you can see he's not sure how to take the compliment.

"Oh, thank you," he manages to say. He catches himself and replies, "You are a straightforward one, I take."

"I'm so sorry, no, I'm not usually like this, I swear!" You respond as if you were trying to pleading innocence. "You're just—uh, sorry, you're really attractive. It caught me off guard," you glance at the remnants of whatever happened to your house and the man then add, "Thank you, though, for saving me... I think? I'm not sure what happened."

"I'm sorry about your house, but a demon almost attacked you. I will help you rebuild your house," he says before you can even stop him or change his mind. "I will return in the morning."