A Dance of Fire and Shadows
Midway Through the Tournament
The Grand Tournament had begun days ago, but the city's excitement hadn't dulled. The stakes were higher than ever, with eliminations, surprises, and rivalries keeping the world hooked.
And at the center of it all-
Wick.
Every match, every move, every stare of his had become legendary. Analysts were obsessed. Rivals were tense. Fans were in awe.
But tonight wasn't about war on the field.
It was the Ball of the Tournament-an elegant event held halfway through the games. A break from the chaos. A celebration of control, poise, and silent battles fought through music and dance.
Wick wasn't particularly interested in the event, but his presence was mandatory. And so, he was on his way.
But fate had other plans.
---
A Detour in the Rain
The rain poured relentlessly, and the city traffic came to a standstill.
Wick leaned back in his seat, exhaling sharply. The constant noise of honking cars irritated him. He considered stepping out and making his way on foot.
That's when he saw her.
Through the misted windows of a taxi, traveling in the opposite direction of the Grand Hall.
Shristi.
And she was sobbing.
Without hesitation, Wick opened the car door and stepped into the rain.
The cold droplets drenched his clothes in seconds, but he didn't care.
He reached the taxi and knocked on the window. Shristi flinched before turning to see him.
Her eyes were red. Tear-streaked.
Wick frowned. She wasn't supposed to be here.
"What happened?" His voice was softer than usual, the concern slipping through. "Why aren't you going to the Grand Hall?"
Shristi sniffled, looking away. "Because... I saw him."
Wick's eyes narrowed. He didn't need to ask who.
Vivaan.
A storm surged in Wick's chest. The man who had broken her. The one who had left her with wounds she refused to show.
Shristi wiped at her tears, her hands trembling. "I can't go there, Wick. Not when he's there. Not when-"
"Come with me."
She looked up, startled. "Why... why are you doing this?"
Wick exhaled, running a hand through his wet hair. "Because we're the top players of our respective teams." His voice was steady. "Our presence is necessary."
She stared at him, as if searching for something in his expression. A reason. An excuse.
And then, suddenly, she straightened.
Her tears were still there, but so was something else.
A spark.
"Would you be my revenge date for tonight only?" she asked, her voice firm despite the lingering emotion.
Wick blinked. Caught off guard.
He hesitated.
"I... I don't know what to say."
Shristi stepped out of the taxi, now standing before him, rain soaking both of them. "Say yes or no."
A challenge.
A demand.
Wick met her gaze, his lips twitching into a smirk. "Get in the car."
Shristi crossed her arms. "What do I take this as?"
Wick tilted his head. "Let's kill them with our duo."
She didn't say anything.
Instead, she threw her arms around him.
For a moment, Wick stiffened.
This... warmth. This sudden embrace.
But slowly, his hands lifted and rested on her back.
It was brief. Fleeting.
But it meant everything.
---
A Performance to Remember
When they entered the Grand Hall, all eyes turned toward them.
They didn't just walk in. They commanded the room.
Shristi's dress, elegant yet bold, caught the light as she moved beside Wick, who carried his usual air of dominance.
And when it was time for the dance competition, they didn't just participate.
They owned the floor.
Their movements were seamless. A perfect blend of power and grace.
Shristi, with her fiery determination.
Wick, with his unwavering presence.
Together, they were undeniable.
And as the night came to a close, the results were announced-
Wick and Shristi weren't just the top players in the tournament.
They were the champions of the night.
A dance of fire and shadows.
To be continued...