Note: I am so in love with this show I can't even string an appropriately articulate sentence together to say just how much. Instead, here is an unedited one-shot of my darlings, Kalagang. Enjoy XO

Be Brave

Being in the medical field meant that you were aware of violence, you were aware of pain. Your job was to fix and care for – not to stand idly by as she had while Wolfgang shot a man in the face so many times that it distorted under the rain of the bullets. The man's face was sunken in…a blob of blood, shattered cartilage and bone and skin. His features turned into something grotesque and hideous, only made more unnerving by the way Wolfgang was staring at him; like even this wasn't enough.

Kala had just stood there, completely and utterly frozen as she watched a man she could barely fathom, a man she was inexplicably drawn to kill someone without batting an eyelash. She'd been crying since he'd come to her to 'say goodbye' and she most certainly wasn't about to stop now. Clutching her chest and trying to even out her breathing she looked back at him. His breathing was hard and loud as well. He'd survived this by the skin of his teeth, the way he always had.

She was so relieved that it was over. So relieved that he was alive. But Kala had also never felt this fear before, this rush of adrenaline and horror washing through her as everything Wolfgang was feeling continued to course through her veins. She felt his lungs lift and sink with every breath he took. Breaths that brought a smaller part of her peace; a smaller part of her was revelling in the success of his plan. But larger parts of her, larger parts of him were conflicted, hurt, muddled and furious. Their emotions spun together and wove a heady mixture of confusion. She could only stare.

His gaze shifted to her and they both felt her apprehension as she sucked in a deep breath and held it.

"That's why you should marry Rajan." He said his voice hoarse. She swallowed. He turned to leave and she opened her mouth, stopping him in his tracks.

"That's not fair." She said her voice unsure and quivering but it called out to him all the same. He was squinting at her, the way he usually did when he didn't understand her. "You don't get to say that and walk away from me, like, like you're doing me some kind of favour."

"I'm doing you more than a favour." He said seriously. "In fact, forgetting about me would be saving your life."

"How am I supposed to forget about you?" She half-yelled. He frowned; it was so unlike her to raise her voice.

"The same way anyone would if they knew what was good for them." Wolfgang said. Her heart broke for the umpteenth time at the sight of him and the feel of his intent behind his every word. He really believed she was better off. She knew so wholly, so intensely, that she most certainly was not.

"You don't get to decide what I do about how you make me feel." She felt so suddenly brave, running off of the fumes of his survival. "I don't care how many times you put on that face of a man at war and tell me that I can't or shouldn't love you because the fact is that I do, and that I want to, and that I will." She remembered what Sun had told her, taking everything she was feeling, everything she wanted, putting it all into her fist and fighting for it. But while Sun's conflict could be resolved with violence, Kala knew it was her heart that knew how to fight.

So it was her heart that she'd use to fight for him. Her heart and his.

And he was going to lose.

"When did you get so brave?" He took a few steps to close the space between them and watched her logic waver in her eyes, but her small shoulders were straight and tense. She'd meant every word.

"Maybe I've been brave all along?" She countered. The closer he got to her, the more her hands trembled and the shorter her breaths became but she wouldn't let him distract her. Even with those eyes that took their time gauging her every expression, or that smile that gave life to the butterflies trapped in her chest. Or with the memory of his lips pressed to hers. No, she had a point to prove and he wasn't about to stand in the way of that.

"Maybe," he agreed, his accent leaving her spellbound as he stepped into her space. "Maybe you just needed something to call to that part of you." Thank God for gravity, else she'd float right into his arms, she thought.

"Someone." She corrected him. "And it's you, we both know that." Her voice was softer, it didn't need to be louder than a whisper really, he was so close to her now. She could smell him.

"I make you brave?" He whispered, that small smile emerging on his face.

"I won't say it again." Wolfgang ran his fingers down the side of her face, so softly, the same fingers that curl around triggers and leave holes in people's faces. Her heart sped and clogged her ears with its pounding. "I make you brave too."

"You do," he began the slow descent of moving his mouth to hers, "You remind me of what I'm fighting for."

"What is that?" She wondered as he brushed his lips over hers.

"The part of myself that is you." He kissed her, gently. She gasped as their lips parted for a second before he pressed their mouths back together, that hardness she loved about his demeanour returning as he pulled her bottom lip between his teeth. She'd gripped his jacket to keep her balance as she leaned into him. They fell easily into a rhythm with their bodies as they grabbed at each other and deepened the kiss.

Their melding emotions evened out and began orbiting around similar things. The word desire burned behind her closed lids like the lingering glare of the sun. If he was an open flame, she was a swarm of fireflies. He wasn't the mouthful of poison he claimed to be and she was far from a wallflower drowning in a sea of colour. They were powerful, they were fighters and believers; it just so happened that these things took different shapes on the patterns across their skin. His were scars and hers were prayers. And when they came together the world came into focus, their minds finally finding something to tether to in complete understanding.

There was nothing wrong with the world in that moment. He was still a killer and she was still devoutly religious, but their common ground was born of their love. Their instant, immortal love that needed a simple glance to be cemented in the history of the world. He could tell her what she needed and she could feign pre-marital bliss as much as she wanted but it all fell away when they gave into their connection. When he pulled away they were struggling for air again, readjusting to the flux of their emotions once more. He pressed his forehead to hers.

"I need you to be safe," he said, "I need you to be happy."

"Then don't tell me who to love and when to leave you." She replied. He pulled away and looked her dead on.

"Okay." He nodded. Her smile was brilliant.

"Okay." She echoed. Disappearing to her side of the world before he could try and take anything back.

Stay Excellent