Bound in Blood & Fire (Heeseung ff)

Danger

Elara

Heeseung was insufferable. He had the audacity to laugh, even as I came so close to driving a dagger through his infuriating heart. He never took this seriously, always dancing around my attacks like it was some twisted game.

"You think this is a joke?" I spat, my voice sharp with frustration.
"One day, Heeseung, I will end you."

He flashed that lazy grin of his, and my blood boiled.
"You keep saying that, but here I am. Still alive. Still here to annoy you."

Gods, I hated him. Hated how he never flinched, never seemed afraid, even when he should be. Even when I was inches away from slicing his throat.

Worse, I hated the way he looked at me. Like I was something to be admired, not feared.
Like every move I made only entertained him.

And as much as I despised him, there was something about the way
he never took his eyes off me.

As if I was the center of his universe. The way his gaze would linger a little too long when I was close, the way he always seemed to catch me just before I could actually land a fatal blow.

I hated him for that too.

But there were more important things than Heeseung and his infuriatingly cocky attitude.
I had a mission tonight, one that didn't involve him.

I turned on my heel, ignoring the stupid butterflies in my stomach when I felt his eyes on my back, and disappeared into the shadows.

---

Heeseung

I lost track of her, but that didn't mean I wasn't watching. Elara was good at what she did.
A little too good.

She was heading into dangerous territory tonight. The kind of place where people didn't care about rivalries or flirtatious murder attempts.

No, they would tear her apart just for the fun of it.

So, I followed. Because someone had to make sure she didn't get herself killed.
And that someone was obviously going to be me.

I kept my distance, tracking her through the alleyways, over rooftops.
She was graceful in the way only a predator could be—silent, deadly, and beautiful.
I hated to admit it, but every part of me was drawn to her.

Then I saw it. She stepped into an ambush.

12 men. Big ones. The kind that didn't play by any rules.
The kind that looked at her like she was fresh meat.

And she fought back, of course. That was who Elara was.
A storm wrapped in a pretty package.
But they were too many, and they didn't fight fair.

They overwhelmed her.

I watched as they threw her to the ground, her blade slipping from her hand.
One of them kicked her, hard. She let out a choked sound, pain flashing across her face as blood trickled from her mouth.

And something in me snapped.