Light in Your Eyes

08 | dismissed

L A Y L A

I can't help but bring my legs toward the basement. I push myself through the crowd, following the people who are way too excited to see what's about to happen.

When I finally arrive, I manage to secure a nice spot, just a few steps away from the ring -- thanks to my petite figure slipping easily between these bodies of strangers.

The moment my eyes are glued to the person standing on the ring, my heart skips a beat.

There, standing tall in the middle of it, is Kellan Romero. His chest heaves up and down, as though he just finished running even though the fight hasn't even begun.

He looks more masculine than the one I saw just now in the picture. His defined muscles look even more intimidating but also beautiful like a piece of art -- does that even make sense?

He's taller than I expected, so tall -- the picture doesn't do him any justice. His hair is dark and messy, almost close to jet black. And his eyes... My God, his eyes... they're the most captivating eyes I've ever seen. They are grey -- misty and mysterious and hold so much more.

He's angry -- I can see it from his expression -- but there's also something else. Sadness? Grief? Pain?

He's very expressive, I almost can feel his emotions myself. Am I the only one who notice it? I don't know, but I can't take my eyes off him.

When Kellan turns the other way, I see the massive black wings tattooed all over his shoulders and back. The tattoo is nothing compared to the other black wings tattoo I saw today. His is enormous, magnificent. It even looks like he has actual wings, which makes him look like an angel -- not like the stereotype angel, but more like a dark angel. A dark, lethal angel.

I don't know how long I've been staring at him, until our eyes suddenly meet. He frowns in my direction, and my heart thumps. It's impossible that he notices me -- he's blind. But I swear, he does, somehow.

Those beautiful grey eyes can't see me -- he doesn't meet my gaze-- but he looks in my direction with such curiosity, that I wonder if my intense gaze has been affecting him.

His opponent steps onto the ring, catching his attention. The crowd cheers, but I notice some people shaking their heads, as though they're underestimating what's about to happen. Some of them even have pity written on their faces like they expect one of the fighters to be beaten into a pulp.

It seems that Kellan's opponent is around the same age. His body is also well built with broad shoulders, but he doesn't look as intimidating as Kellan. His nostrils flare while Kellan's chest heaves up. Kellan takes a deep breath, a sign that he's trying to calm his temper before the fight begins.

"I don't understand why they never learn from their mistakes," a girl watching beside me is talking to her friend. "How are they supposed to complete Fenrir's task if they can't even defeat a blind man?"

Her friend laughs. "I don't care. We get to enjoy their practice session. We're lucky Kellan is the trainer for our fighters, and it seems that he always enjoys giving them a hard time."

When another guy in the ring gives the sign to start the fight with his hand, my heart starts to race. Kellan is blind -- I don't know how he's going to win this fight.

The other guy attacks first, and I almost gasp as Kellan dodges his punch. When he tries to land a kick, Kellan blocks it, whirls to lift his opponent's body, and then throws him harshly onto the ground.

Kellan's opponent groans in pain as the back of his head smacks the hard cement. I wince. I'm not used to violence, and a part of me wants to leave immediately. Yet, my feet feel like being nailed onto the ground. I'm being hypnotized by the sight before me -- Kellan, especially.