Celestial: Fallen

Chapter 47 - The Cold Test

After the announcement of the prizes for the other couples, two large drums were placed in the center of the field. They were massive and, from the looks of it, filled with ice. My stomach twisted in a knot as I was asked to step aside, joining the other cheerleaders. I had no idea what was coming next, I glanced over at Diarmid, worry bubbling inside me.

Chelsea stepped forward, her energy as high as ever, with a mischievous smile on her face. "Alright, settle down everyone. Now, here's the exciting part. This is where our guys will have to work really hard for our girl." She threw a playful glance toward me and continued, "So, Clayton, you'll be competing with Diarmid here. But—there's a catch. You both need to agree on the challenges. If either of you backs out or refuses, then Arwen won't date either of you."

The crowd erupted into cheers again, the energy palpable. Clayton and Diarmid exchanged glances, and for a brief moment, it felt like time slowed. There was an intensity in the air as they nodded, agreeing to the challenge. I could see Clayton's cocky smile falter slightly as he eyed Diarmid, but he tried to keep his composure.

"Great!" Chelsea exclaimed, clearly enjoying the tension. "Here's the deal. First, you two will race a 500-meter dash. But don't relax after that—you'll both have to immerse yourselves in the drum filled with ice water right after. There's no time limit. Whoever comes out of the ice first is out, and the cold temperature will be monitored for both of you. It's all about endurance and who can last the longest."

The crowd buzzed with excitement, while my heart pounded in my chest. Chelsea continued, her voice firm and teasing at the same time. "Whoever wins this challenge gets the prize—whether it's you, Clayton, or Diarmid."

I looked back at Diarmid, who stood there, completely calm, like nothing could faze him. He didn't even look at the drum filled with ice, his focus entirely on the challenge ahead. Clayton, on the other hand, seemed to be trying to psych himself up, but I could tell there was a flicker of nervousness in his eyes.

The tension between the two of them was undeniable, and I knew this was more than just a game to them—it felt like a showdown, and I was right in the middle of it.

The crowd's energy was electric as the whistle blew, signaling the start of the 500-meter dash. Clayton bolted forward with confidence, but Diarmid—oh, Diarmid—moved like the wind itself. His strides were effortless, his body cutting through the air with such precision that it was almost mesmerizing. It was as if he wasn't even running, but gliding across the field. In just a few moments, he was yards ahead of Clayton, leaving him behind by what felt like an eternity.

I watched in awe as Diarmid crossed the finish line without breaking a sweat, while Clayton struggled to keep up, his breathing labored. Diarmid didn't even look back; his eyes were fixed forward, focused and determined. The crowd roared in approval, but for a second, everything around me felt like it disappeared. All I could see was Diarmid, standing there in front of me, victorious.

He walked up to me, his breathing steady, and without a word, he started to remove his shirt. My breath hitched in my throat as the fabric lifted over his head, revealing his chiseled chest and toned abs. His skin glistened slightly under the lights, and I felt my pulse quicken.

Diarmid's gaze met mine as he held out his shirt. "Can you hold this for me?" His voice was low, almost intimate, as if the crowd around us didn't exist.

I swallowed hard and nodded, barely trusting my voice to speak. I took the shirt from him, my fingers brushing against his as I did. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and I swear my heart skipped a beat.

With that smile still lingering on his face, he bent down to remove his shoes, each movement calm and deliberate. There was no hesitation in his actions, no second-guessing, and as he stood back up, I could feel the tension radiating from the crowd, all eyes on him.