Dragon in Distress
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- Votes 1
- Parts 1
MatureOngoing7m
Last published Fri, Aug 28, 2015
A flame ignited inside the bohemian styled ballroom, a hot fire. Burning, scorching, through eye sights and shooting bullets into hearts. I would've guessed that pain was nothing less than love. Beautiful caramel skin, anger red lipstick and hair in delightful bun, bunched up at the top of her head. Eyes like an eagle, daring and powerful, melting me to soup as her chocolate pupils matched with my sight. A familiar scent danced to my nostrils and a nauseous feeling overcame me. I watched fearfully as she walked away as her red dress sweeping on the ground, as swift as a broom, completing a job, only difference is the job to make me feel desire. Her presence crossing between people, her dress, following her like the evil sidekick. I would've followed, but we all know why I didn't.
History would repeat itself.
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On the dance floor, revelers moved as one, a frenzied sea of motion, while others lounged on bar stools or leaned casually against the walls, sipping from glittering glasses, their heads nodding to the relentless beat. Laughter rippled through clusters of friends lost in their own revelry, their joy a stark contrast to the solitary figure hidden in the shadows. Resa sat alone in the corner, his silhouette a sharp fragment against the vibrant chaos. His eyes, dull with the weight of heartbreak, wandered aimlessly, unfocused. The world before him blurred, a distorted reality that felt just out of reach. And then she entered. A beautiful girl, her movements exuding effortless confidence, glided through the crowd like a breeze slicing through smoke. Her laughter, bright and melodic, rang out-a sound that momentarily pierced the din. Heads turned as she passed, her presence magnetic, commanding. But not even her radiance could reach Resa. His heart, cocooned in a haze of sorrow, refused to acknowledge the allure of the moment. The pain tethering him to his seat kept him anchored in the void between the tangible and the intangible, a liminal space where the music felt distant and joy seemed impossible. In the midst of this vibrant scene, Resa's heartbreak was a muted, yet palpable undercurrent-a quiet ache lost in the chaos of the night.
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Hate to Love me
She had been alone with me before but the air in the car was excruciatingly lovely. It felt like home. It was as if she was my wife and I was just driving us home after a long day. At the same time, it felt like I couldn't breathe. For fucks sake, my chest was sweating, but I loved it. I glanced at her as she was leaning her head on the window, her dark ponytail sprawled over her chest. She looked so daunting and elegant it made my heart clench. Sometimes, when I looked really hard and noticed everything I didn't get the chance to in all of the nine years I've known her before she disappeared, it made me feel like a high school boy again. That feeling of happiness when I was with her. Or even just the thought of her. Fuck. I grabbed a cigarette from out of one the cup holders and lit it up, trying to distract myself from her. I inhaled, but when I turned to look at Selene she was covering her nose with her shirt. I furrowed my brows and scowled. Did I smell? "What's wrong?" I softly asked. She glanced at me and shook her head gently, dismissing me. I clenched my jaw. When I pulled my hand up to inhale another smoke, it finally clicked. I quickly threw it out the window and turned the AC on, rolling our windows up. I felt her stare on the side of my face and gulped, trying my fucking best not to smile. "Why did you do that?" She asked me, her voice low. Almost sounding like she was whispering. I quickly shot her a glance before answering. "You have asthma." Her gaze darkened. It was so quiet I could hear her heart beating rapidly while we stared at each other. I couldn't help but want to reach up and kiss her, and hold her like she deserved. She swallowed her saliva and looked away, a smile starting to form on the corners of her lips. I chuckled, already knowing I couldn't escape her now. I wouldn't be able to. It'd be like not having oxygen. And so help me, God, if I didn't have my oxygen.
Behind the mask
On the rooftop, her fancy dress that's now covered with her blood, her tired ice blue eyes met his gazes under his mask, his hazel eyes shines under the moonlight, she couldn't hold more the pain even though she's been through worse than this, but she lost a lot of blood and start getting dizzy and cold, she may be a disgrace to the assassins, but her rival is much stronger than she is. Suddenly Ivan pointed a gun towards her, and said with his deep voice "sit down" She was confused,(does he think that i'll give up cause of his threatening??) He stepped closer and said again but more sternly "sit down, Now, i won't repeat" She wasn't afraid so she didn't comply and took a defensive position, he pinched the bridge of his nose and close the gap between them, he grabbed her shoulders and pushed her down, she resisted but he groaned "why are you so stubborn, you lost a lot of blood, now sit down, i won't bite unless you want to" he smirked, and pushed her down till she was sitting completely, she sighs and couldn't argue more cause she is already dizzy, he sat beside her "Rei... Are you okay?" She felt cold and heavy, even words couldn't come out of her mouth, she just leaned against him and passed out.
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In the Arms of Danger
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On the dance floor, revelers moved as one, a frenzied sea of motion, while others lounged on bar stools or leaned casually against the walls, sipping from glittering glasses, their heads nodding to the relentless beat. Laughter rippled through clusters of friends lost in their own revelry, their joy a stark contrast to the solitary figure hidden in the shadows. Resa sat alone in the corner, his silhouette a sharp fragment against the vibrant chaos. His eyes, dull with the weight of heartbreak, wandered aimlessly, unfocused. The world before him blurred, a distorted reality that felt just out of reach. And then she entered. A beautiful girl, her movements exuding effortless confidence, glided through the crowd like a breeze slicing through smoke. Her laughter, bright and melodic, rang out-a sound that momentarily pierced the din. Heads turned as she passed, her presence magnetic, commanding. But not even her radiance could reach Resa. His heart, cocooned in a haze of sorrow, refused to acknowledge the allure of the moment. The pain tethering him to his seat kept him anchored in the void between the tangible and the intangible, a liminal space where the music felt distant and joy seemed impossible. In the midst of this vibrant scene, Resa's heartbreak was a muted, yet palpable undercurrent-a quiet ache lost in the chaos of the night.
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