But is fire, only love ?
I watched as the burning desire in his eyes turned into fire. No, not of love but of danger. It was scary, the flames were coming from all the corners. They have hacked his eyes, someone please help, I was crying.
His eyes shifted from mine and towards the offer letter on the table. He was angry and I knew it. But could I do anything ? No, nothing.
The way his touch used to burn my skin with love; The way the fire engulfed us in the fiery pit of love; blinded us to see where it was leading us. Or was it only I blinded ?
Now, the same touch is leaving scars of burns all over my body. As he dragged me by my arm in the living room, the memory of his threat came back. He hated when I worked, he didn’t wanted me to work in an office. It was amazing how he treated me as a princess but I am tired.
The tiredness in my eyes was catching fire as he pushed me on the sofa. This is not right, I can do whatever I want and NO, he do not own me.
Our eyes met, as I got up and stared straight. His were black from the anger of fire. Mine were black from the tiredness of fire. The same fire that made us to be with each other, was now taunting us to take a step back from the dancing flames.
I watched, as the fire fully enveloped him into itself, as he broke whatever was in his line of sight. And NO, I was not spared and I have got the red as a witness. The red of wine, mixed with the red of blood with a tinge of red of anger had made the taste of red of love disappear somehow.
The glass pieces flew everywhere, on the ground, into the air and pierced inside my skin, making them explode with the heat of fire inside me. As the blood oozed out, I realized what I was doing, I was doing NOTHING.
Has the love made the fire inside of me so dull for my lover that it is not even igniting the anger of pain ?
I watched, as the anger burned him down. I watched, as the flames started reaching me. I watched, as I was too engulfed by the fierce.
What was left of the pieces was what I broke, before I broke down, running and locking myself in my room.
His anger was taken out on me, burning me to ashes. But mine ? My anger was burning what was left inside of me.
It was fiery anger that left us burning in fire,
But what will happen when finally the wind blows in the right direction ?
( To Be Continued )