The fire and the beat. It was right. It was together. It would collapse the walls of hell and set the world right. Smit knew this. For the first time ever he knew it would be love that saved the day. He could have stood there with Helena in his arms and that smile on her face as the walls tumbled around him. Let them burn. Let them fall.
But Helena had her feet on the ground and as Smit got overwhelmed with a sensation he had never experienced her eyes told him there was more. If he did not let himself be buried by this rush there was more to come. Right as he saw that flick in her eyes he heard a yell from the shaft.
Someone was inside waiting for them. Smit had to let go. He had to pull his beating arms away from her heat. A fear sprang up inside that when he did, he would never find that warmth again. They would fight the creeps that thought they could just leak into their world. They would bury them all. Then up in the sunlight things would look different. He would look different. Helena would go back to some University and study some art of some far off culture. Smit would be alone. Would she want him when they were done and she no longer needed him?
Smit scolded himself for those thought at this time. Save her first you asshole he told himself as his hold on her loosened. Not letting go completely he took her hand and turned to the elevator. Within the beat inside he heard a softer drum that called him to run. It told him to keep fighting. To bring down the walls. To fight for Helena. Underground or above didnít matter. Evil demons or routine boredom didnít matter. It was worth the fights. All of them. The drums got louder again and he moved quicker, with his hand pulling Helena toward the escape.
As he ran with her he looked back and yelled, ďCall your fire back, sexy. Heat rises and we might need it to pull us out of here.Ē