The Love of a Crow - Wesper/Crows Fanfiction/AU

12. Wylan

  Wylan hadn't actually thought he was serious. Or that Jesper actually wanted him to shoot something. But after he had cleared out the Crow Pit with whatever small authority Jesper claimed to have, he pulled out a revolver.

"See this?" Jesper said dreamily as he gazed at the gun like it was a lost lover. "This is the most powerful weapon in the world."

Wylan snorted. "No it's not! A bomb is just as powerful, maybe even more so! Plus, it's absolutely useless to anyone that doesn't know how to aim."

"In the hands of an amateur, then yes, I suppose it's useful. But in the hands of an expert-"

Wylan jumped as the bang of Jesper's revolver scattered across the room. He could barely keep up with the bullet as it pinged from the wall at the perfect angle for it to bounce, then hit the side, the opposite, before finally tilting so it landed right at Wylan's feet. He yelped, running backwards.

"Ta-da!" Jesper yelled.

"YOU JUST FIRED A BULLET AT ME!" Wylan shrieked, glaring at the spot the bullet had landed as he hid behind Jesper.

Jesper merely shrugged. "Not at you, exactly. Your feet were just my final target. But you see? In the hands of an expert-"

"No, in the hands of a drunk maniac!" Wylan stormed to the door but Jesper grabbed his wrist, forcing him to look at Jesper. Wylan had to keep his eyes averted; if he didn't he felt he was in danger of letting Jesper shoot him all he wanted, as long as it meant he kept looking at him like that... stormy grey eyes, relaxed features, smooth skin. Sometimes dreams were too much to bear. Especially when only an hour ago that same person had wanted you dead.

Wylan hadn't known why Jesper had taken such a loathing to him; maybe it was the fact that he missed his kill? That Kaz had kept him alive for whatever reason? Maybe it was the bombs? But Wylan would gladly teach Jesper how to make hundreds of explosives if it meant acceptance. And now? Now he had gotten it by nearly dying. Very Barrel appropriate.

"Listen merchling. I may be drunk, and I am most certainly a maniac, but this-" he gestured to the Pit. "This is all I know. You build bombs, I shoot guns," Jesper's hand slid to Wylan's and Wylan almost lost his breath. Then he felt cool pearl touch his hands, and suddenly he was holding a revolver. Jesper was smiling. "We might as well mix!"

Carefully, also not mentioning the light blush on his cheeks, Jesper moved Wylan's arms until it came in line with a shooting dummy 10 metres away. He was so close to him, leaning down to adjust Wylan's shaking hand ever so slightly, both their breaths mingling together.

Saints, this boy is trying to kill me.

"Now, whenever you feel it's the right moment, pull the trigger. Can you feel it?" Jesper whispered.

Oh yes. Wylan could definitely feel it.

And as Wylan's heart sped as fast as it could go, and as his eyes met Jesper's, he barely noticed how little control he had on his limbs anymore. He also didn't notice the door of the Pit opening until Jesper's eyes were wide with horror when they all heard a bang and a high-pitched scream.

Wylan turned in horror, falling backwards as the shock of the shot rushed right up his arm. He had done it. He had killed someone. And it wasn't even using one of his bombs!

Those were the thoughts that plagued his head until finally, after what felt like an eternity of heavy breathing and hyperventilating, a floppy head of blonde hair emerged from it's place on the ground, and the face it belonged to stared at Wylan like he was a talking cat.