colours

ii. flaming red

A sudden gust of hot air blew on the cold breeze away for a moment, before it left as fast as it had come. The concrete under her bare feet constantly shone a tinge of orange and red, after the occasional reflection of a darker shade of red later.

The flames licked on her skin ever-so-often, not burning her at all. Surges of agile twirls and spirals of heat had featured the room as she became grace itself, playing with fire. No sweat broke through her, only silent breathing. Inhale, exhale.

He watched her from behind the rough white pillars, eyeing her every movement in amazement, mouth agape. His eyes had found its way to her hair, so alive and so much like the scorching flames she played with at the tips of her fingers with such passion that it had looked as if she was fire.

She looked up at him all of a sudden, as if she had felt his presence. With blazing jade eyes piercing his own and a delicate eyebrow raised, she blew the fire out.

"You aren't supposed to be here, you know," she began and ended the conversation just like that, breaking eye contact in the process.

The whole room had suddenly become pitch black; with the exception of the sliver of light its that shone beneath the thin space between the door's brim and the concrete below it. She maneuvered her way to the door in utter silence and he could only stare at her dim outline until the door had cracked open to let her out.

The fluorescent lightbulb's brightness fell on her freckled features for a millisecond before the door shut behind her. He was left rooted to his spot, wide-eyed with no idea what had just happened.

"Well that was hot," he mumbled after a few moments, pulling at the neck of his shirt as if to get rid of the heat.