CHAPTER 7: FIRST STRIKE
715 Words
The knife came too fast.
I froze. My body betrayed me for a split second, but that was enough. Instinct kicked in, and I moved. Not far. Not safe. Just… out of the line of fire.
Cassian was already there. Calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that makes your skin crawl. Not panicked, not rushing, just… deadly precise. His hand went for the stranger, silent, controlled.
I watched. My stomach tight. Heart pounding so loud I thought it might echo through the café.
I hated him. I hated him and I hated myself for noticing. I hated the way my chest twisted, the way my hands shook just a little.
But I couldn’t look away.
The stranger lunged again. Cassian didn’t flinch. Just blocked, moved, grabbed, twisted. Swift. Controlled. Perfect. Like he’d done it a thousand times before. Probably had.
I swallowed. Hard.
I realized something then.
I wasn’t safe. Not in my apartment. Not in the streets. Not even in the café.
I was in the middle of something I couldn’t control. Something dangerous. And I was alive. Barely.
I could feel the adrenaline buzzing in my veins, sharp and cruel. I could taste it. Could taste the fear in my own mouth. Could taste the control in his, the sharp precision.
I hated him for that. And I hated that I wanted him to notice me. That part of me, the part I didn’t like, wanted to be used, wanted to be watched. Wanted him to care.
I shook my head. No. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.
I had a different plan.
Revenge. Quiet. Small. Precise. The way he used people, I’d use him. Just a little. For now.
I didn’t think. I just moved.
The stranger was distracted for a split second, enough for me to act. I grabbed the first thing I could. Metal. Sharp edge. Not enough to kill. Just enough to hurt. To mark. To show.
I swung.
Not much. Not a full hit. Just enough. Enough to make them flinch, enough to surprise them.
It worked.
The stranger stumbled. Eyes wide. Shock. They recovered quickly, but I saw the hesitation. That hesitation was my weapon.
Cassian’s eyes flicked at me. Just a second. That cold, sharp calculation. Like he was weighing whether I was dangerous or stupid.
I hoped dangerous.
The stranger lunged again. Cassian caught them. Twisted, blocked, moved. Swift. Perfect. Too perfect.
I backed up, heart pounding, chest tight. Mind racing.
And then… I realized I wasn’t thinking anymore. Not just about surviving.
I was thinking about revenge. Small. Quiet. Precise. Calculated.
I would learn him. Study him. Watch him. Wait for the opening. And when it came, I would strike.
Cassian’s hand went to the stranger again. Calm. Precise. Deadly.
I watched. Learned. Not because I wanted to, but because I had to.
The adrenaline burned, hot, cruel. I hated it. Loved it. I hated that I felt alive in this way.
The stranger made a sudden move. Sharp. Fast.
Cassian blocked. Silent. Controlled. Dangerous calm.
I realized then, something I didn’t want to admit: I wanted him to win. Not against me. Against the stranger. Against anyone who threatened us. I wanted him to be the predator. I wanted him to be in control. I hated that.
I stepped forward. Impulsive. Reckless. I had no plan. No thought. Just movement.
The stranger noticed me. Smirked. Something knowing. Something cruel.
Cassian’s eyes flicked to me. Sharp. Dangerous. Calculating.
And I realized…
I had started the game.
Not fully. Not openly. But I had.
The stranger lunged again. Cassian moved faster. Too fast. I couldn’t keep up. Couldn’t see everything. Couldn’t plan everything.
I felt my chest tighten. My stomach twist. My hands shake.
I had no control.
Not yet.
But I would.
I had to.
And then…
The stranger smiled.
Not friendly. Not kind. Just cruel. Knowing.
“You’re reckless,” they said.
I realized then…
I wasn’t just fighting for survival.
I was fighting to be seen. To be heard. To be someone.
And maybe… to hurt him.
Not now. Not fully. But one day.
Cassian moved again. Faster. Sharper. More precise. Too precise.
And I realized I wasn’t ready.
I was alive.
But I was just a beginner.
And the stranger… was not.
- Writer
