REFLECTIONS - aventurine

000 - bella ciao

"What happened to your eye?" he asked as his beautiful ones met your own.

"The dealer told me I was too lowly to have such a pretty face," you shrank under his intense, yet gentle scrutiny. Your voice was barely above a whisper, "then she threw some chemical at me... I don't know. It's blurry."

You saw his expression darken for a moment then turned to unease. He opened his mouth. But before he could respond, the arena had erupted with blaring horns.

The game has begun.

"We need to leave, now," he said, urgency coating his words as he grabbed your arm, dragging you with an intent that left no room for debate—you weren't planning to, anyway. He led you toward one of the entryways of the arena, you couldn't help but notice how even in such desperate times, his care for you never wavered. And his beauty, especially evident in the earnestness of his eyes, seemed almost out of place in the grim reality you'd both been cursed with.

"It's locked," you pointed out, panic threading through your voice as you reached the exit. You looked up and your gaze immediately shifted to the narrow gap between the iron fence and the ceiling. The gap was barely six inches wide. Your own malnourished state, a typically lamentable circumstance, now appeared as an advantage. Yet, Kakavasha, with his muscular (according to standards that of a slave's), more imposing stature, presented a new challenge. His beauty, so profound, now faced a physical challenge that seemed unfairly insurmountable.

Catching the worried glance, he nodded, a silent understanding passing between you. "I'll help you up. Go," he commanded, his voice imbued with an unspoken assurance that he would follow.

"But what about you?" The question tore itself from your throat.

"I'll be right behind you. Just hurry," he insisted. Your heart hammered against your ribcage as you managed to wiggle and squirm yourself through the tight gap. You started to taste metal from how hard you were biting your cheek. Once you safely made it to the other side, you swore you could smell fresh air right around the corner but you turned back towards the arena, the escape was not yet over. You felt the anxiety knotting in your stomach as Kakavasha prepared to follow.

But then, there's another prisoner running at him, his face twisted in anger or perhaps desperation. Panic rushed within you.

"Behind you—!"

Kakavasha looked behind him, but not before he was dragged to the ground by the other man. He was able to fend off the attacker for a few moments, giving him time to turn back to you.

"Go!" he hissed through gritted teeth. "Leave me!"

Leaving him behind was not an option. Not when he had risked everything for you. You looked around frantically for something, anything that could be helpful.

It was then that the distant sound of screams echoed through the air, a chilling sound that probably meant someone was murdered. You two next if you don't figure something out. The crowd's roar was like a wave crashing against the arena's walls, a sound that brought with it an onslaught of fear. You knew that if you didn't act fast, you'd be caught and dragged back to be punished for eternity.

With no more time to lose, you spotted a discarded piece of metal near the fence—a remnant of some previous construction, you didn't care to question. Seizing it, you turned back to Kakavasha.

In that harrowing moment, time seemed to slow to a crawl. The other prisoner managed to withdraw a sharp scrap of metal during the struggle, Kakavasha's eyes widened in horror. Blood began to spread across the ground, staining his matted blonde hair. Despite the agony etched into his features, his voice screamed at you, "Run!"

You could see the effort it took for him to speak, the way his breath hitched. His strength was ebbing away by the second, but his concern remained solely on you. He's insane.

Tears welled in your eyes, blurring your already damaged vision.

"I can't leave you," you whispered, voice choked with tears, barely audible over the roar of the crowd and the commotion surrounding you.

"Please," he gasped, his hand, coated in his own blood, reached out to you. "You must."

To stay would mean to doom you both, but to run, to leave him behind, felt like tearing your soul apart.

With a heart shattering inside your chest, you took a step back, then another, each one filled with hesitation. Kakavasha's hand fell.

"I'll find you again," you promised. Then, turning on unsteady legs, you ran. Ran with the image of Kakavasha's fallen form engraved into your memory, ran with tears streaming down your face, ran until you were out of that hell hole.

You didn't look back. You didn't want to. How could someone so beautiful, so selfless, be left to face such peril alone?