his blood - timothée chalamet [18+]

2

people were set off the do tasks every single day, it was a way of practicing and keeping this place in standard shape.

first week task:
1. learn self defense, shooting range practice. instructor will be waiting...
2. go down to the garden, harvest. ask for help— when there.

i made my way down the gun range, it was at the lowest level of the house. it looked like a dungeon and it was dark, soundproof.

i waited for my instructor.

"prescott, prescott," the man's voice from yesterday reappears.

"so what are you?" i asked.

"what do you mean?" he wondered.

"you were a guard yesterday and now you're my instructor?"

he laughs, "a man of many talents,"

he goes to grab a pistol from off the racks, placing a new load into it, before giving it to me, "eyes on the target, keep the sight align-"

"and control," i mumbled,

"your father is a hunter?"

i nod, shooting my first bullet, "no. boyfriend is a cop,"

"is he here?"

"nope," i say continuing to shoot more rounds to distract myself,
he's dead

"and you missed every target," he sighed, leaning his back on the door, he had the most disappointed face i've ever seen.

i then noticed all the missed bullets that dented the steel wall.

"apparently your boyfriend doesn't teach you good. not as good as i can," he says, smiling a bit,

i put the gun down, "excuse me?"

he shrugs, "do you want help or not?"

"not anymore," i rolled my eyes,

i'm pretty sure he knew i was mad at his remark, it was ignorant, unlikable.

"almost forgot," he mumbled,

he went to search for the soundproof headphones, he pushed my hair back gently, he was focused on my hair, tucking it behind my ears.

and just for that second, i flinched, having an attractive stranger that close to me—caused my mind to spiral.

"relax, you're okay," he says softly.

and he placed the headphones on, when i could've done it.

"now i don't have to hear you," i say, i probably was speaking extremely loudly because he started laughing and i couldn't hear my tone.

"snarky," he mumbled.

he positions himself a certain way and implied for me to copy him, so i did.

bang. bang. bang.

i actually made the target, right in the head.

he smiled, i take off the headphones, he narrows his eyebrows together, "that's what happens when you listen to me," he says flirtatiously.

"oh god," i say walking away,

"hey where are you going?" he follows me, pouting his lips.

"to do my next task? why do you wanna come with me?"

he shrugs, "possibly, but i have to meet back with the team soon zfile,"

zfiles, an organization placed to protect the people of blood type z. in protecting matter—they fought for what was right. a group of skilled fighters and smart people.