Love comes in many forms.
Speaking about it, imagining it, and melting at the mere prospect of it can leave you giddy with its richness.
But defining it, expressing or experiencing it - that's a different game.
Elijah - the heir to the throne of...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Zyanna.
Her eyes, they flickered, dimmed and then all of a sudden - the calm spark stroking her pupils raged into a blazing fire.
The knife struck right against Rain's leg, and in mere seconds, her small face sunk and fell to the ground.
No.
The petite body of the nine-year-old lied there with cascades of blood starting to stain her legs.
I have to do something.
I immediately started to tug the ropes holding me down, gnashing my teeth as I tried my hardest to free myself.
Zyanna's eyes zeroed in on the dancer's smug form that stood over Rain's unconscious self, and everything that happened next - it could have easily be passed off as a dream of simple trauma.
But a dream might have been a little more gentle with the visual flashes it gave me.
And this wasn't simple, gentle nor was it not relentless - in every way possible.
Zyanna's hands clenched and she raised her fist into the air, impelling it straight at the dancer's nose.
The female violently faltered and nearly lost her balance, head almost lolling to the back.
But she fluidly steadied herself with a trace of surprise in her stance, and nastily wiped the blood under her nose with the back of her palm. She shook her foot out with a revived smile and kicked Rain's body away with a force that was so hard - it startled Zyanna herself; making her exhale shakily.
It was only her and the dancer, face to face, with nothing in the middle.
Zyanna isn't trained enough to take that woman down in a fight. I have to get myself out.
I tugged again, attempting to somehow wrench my body away from the pillar.
I met with failure.
"That was completely unnecessary. Emotions that trigger such stupid actions - I don't encourage it," Blood continued to pour from her nose, and she touched off a drop of it and pointed it at Zyanna. "Mind getting even, bitch?"
Zyanna's gaze sharpened wildly and she began stepping back as the dancer smirked and prowled forward; their footsteps mirroring eachother as one pair of feet moved backword, the other following it.
Predator and prey - but what if both of them were tigers?
Her back hit the pillar and Zyanna locked her hands behind her back, staring right into the dancer's eyes.
The murderer didn't see it, but I did. It happened in a handful of seconds, but I saw it.
Zyanna's hand silently swept to the back of the pillar, her body moving with her arm so swiftly that it could have simply been called fright. Fright that causes the body to cower - the victim reflexively flinching away from the enemy.
