A Blaze In My Heart

26. "...more than just charm and looks."

(1317 words)

*BLAYZE's POV*

Mihrimah Woods was an odd woman. Too fiery, too headstrong and self-assertive. She was unlike any other woman I had come across. Her rebelliousness and the way she dared to talk back made her stand out. From her name to her skills to her personality, everything was unique and new to me. She was brave, she was smart, she was annoying.

From day one, I was easily irked by her, and I would continuously question myself on why I had hired her or why I didn't have it in me to fire her. Did I really want her to stay so I could make her suffer or was there a different reason to it?

It didn't have anything to do with her work. She did everything efficiently and in the best way possible. Her skills and intellect could not be questioned. Even though I never admitted it or praised her, it was true. Yet, there was something about her that annoyed me. That wanted me to push her away, yet have her close.

Perhaps I was intrigued and fascinated by the woman. After all, in the twenty six years of my existence, no woman dared to speak like that to me. No woman would dare to look into my eyes with hers blazing like fire, as if she wasn't afraid of anything at all.

I thought I hated her. I thought I wanted her to get the fuck out of my life. I thought I made the biggest mistake of my life by hiring her, that too as my personal assistant. I thought when she'd finally leave, everything would be fine. I would find peace. I thought everything would fall into place once she'd get lost, and there would be no one to argue with me and infuriate me.

But now she was gone. Actually and truly gone. She had packed up her stuff and left. I didn't even fucking know if she had shifted to some other hotel or had taken a flight back home. I didn't know if she was fucking okay. She wouldn't attend my calls, she wouldn't reply to my texts.

It had only been a few hours since she had left, and I was already missing her; that was the height of exasperation for me. Never had I ever longed for a woman before. Never had I craved the presence of a woman so badly.

I was willing to have her in front of me, even if it meant her bickering with me non-stop. She could scream at me or call me an ugly sea monster, I would bear it all. I just needed her.

I had absolutely no idea what was happening to me. I had never felt that way before. There had never been a similar turmoil of emotions within me. I wanted to shout and break things. I wanted her back.

I don't know when I started to develop a soft spot for Mihrimah. Maybe it was when I saw her all worn out the day she got there, the way her feet seemed to ache as she walked. I had this annoying urge to scoop her in my arms and coax her to sleep.

Or maybe it was the moment her head dropped onto my shoulder in the car. It wasn't that the idea of tossing her away instantly didn't cross my mind. I hated such forms of intimacy. But something in me compelled me to let her sleep. Even when we arrived at the hotel, I was almost tempted to push her off of me, but one look at her innocent and peaceful sleeping face, and all such ideas went down the drain. For a hot-headed and big-mouthed woman, she looked too innocent and serene in that moment.

Moving forward to the couch and bed incident, I was unable to fall asleep as I kept thinking of her on the couch. After much tossing and turning, I dropped my guard in front of my blazing conscience and went to transfer her to the bed. Fast asleep, she looked equally tranquil and calm as she did in the car.

Before I picked her up and put her in bed, I couldn't help but take in her features. Her beauty was one of a kind. She was one of a kind. So ravishing and bewitching. Her long, luscious light brown locks were sprawled over the couch, over her forehead and even her chest that rose and fell as she breathed. Her lips were slightly parted and her eyelids fluttered indicating that she was dreaming.

Everything about her face was perfect. Her eyebrows, her eyes, her beautifully sculpted nose, her rosy cheeks and pink lips. Even though I denied it time and again, the truth was that Mihrimah Woods was exceptionally beautiful from head to toe.

That time when I was in the pool with her. It was easily the best time of my life. For the first time in a long time, I felt free and relaxed. The feeling was liberating, and so much more exciting than the thrill of winning another award or achieving another medal of success.

I never knew one could feel so much with just a water fight. When my arms wrapped around her body, I once again realised how fucking beautiful she was. Fucking magnificent. With her hair wet and beads of water rolling down the supple skin of her face and neck, she looked ethereal. The way she intensely looked into my eyes stirred up feelings in me impossible to explain and justify. I was going to kiss her then if we hadn't been interrupted. The way her eyes shone and her delectable lips practically invited me to cover them with mine, I was extremely tantalised.

If all of that wasn't enough for me to understand that I cared, even slightly, for the woman that I claimed I couldn't stand, then the moment she told me our room had been broken into, was. Words can't describe the fear and anxiety I felt as I rushed up there, worried someone might hurt her. If she hadn't pushed me away, I would have held her longer. I would have held her until all of her fears and worries had alleviated, and she felt safe.

Maybe I should have realised that I was developing feelings for her the moment her ex-boyfriend showed up. His arms around her body ignited a rage within me like no other. I wanted to cut his fucking arms off.

And then when I watched them in the café, my control snapped the moment he wrapped his hand around hers.

In that moment I realised, I was jealous of anyone she dreamed about. I was jealous of any hands that touched her or any eyes that watched her. I was envious of the minds that thought of her, the hearts that yearned for her and the souls that craved for her.

That stupid ex-boyfriend should be grateful I didn't chop his hand off.

I hadn't meant to kiss her then, but she was being so stubborn and enraging. Saying things that made me lose control. So, I kissed her as possessively as I could to show her that she couldn't be with someone else.

I knew she'd be angry afterwards. I didn't expect her to instantly melt into my arms and declare her feelings for me, which most probably did not exist. But I didn't think she'd leave either. That too in a matter of minutes.

Before I could even figure anything out, she was gone.

All that was left behind of hers was a beige scrunchie resting on her nightstand and loads of memories.

Mihrimah Woods was more than just charm and looks. Her charisma lied in her brain, her courage, her determination and her ability to dare.

And I... I missed her.

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An insight into what Blayze thinks about Mihrimah.

What do you guys think about Blayze's actual thoughts and feelings?

Don't forget to vote and comment. Thank you for reading ❤️