Scömíche One Shots

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"Okay, I'll be in the West Shops, kay?" I said to Mitch, standing in the middle of the mall.

He nodded quickly, looking around at the options he already had in this area. "Okay, I'll be looking around in Micheal Kors, I need a new bag."

"Mhmm, need. Sure." I earned a slap on the arm for my comment from my best friend.

"Whatever, we'll meet here in fourty and then get food. Sound good?" I smiled and nodded at his proposal before walking to my desired store.

It hadn't been twenty minutes before I heard the gunshots. Screaming, running, shouts of "get down".

I of course listened, trying to calm down the swirling headache that had formed in the back of my head.

I saw a man in all black with a smaller male flinged over his shoulder, laying practically lifelessly. He dropped the body and pointed the gun at him, before I realized something. Mitch. God that's Mitch.

"Oh my God no." I mumbled, trying to to draw attention to myself or end Mitch's life.

"Okay. All of you keep quiet and this f*g doesn't get hurt." That broke all my nerves, all of them snapping at once.

"Don't fucking call him that!" I said as I stood, avoiding hitting my head on the edge of the table.

"Oh, you wanna die huh?" My heartbeat sped up with sheer adrenaline.

"No, I really don't. What do you want? Money? I have that. Just don't hurt him, please." My tone turned more vulnerable as it ended.

"Ha!" He exlaimed loudly, "And why not?"

"Just... please. Please, I love him. You... don't hurt him. Kill me I just... god please don't hurt him."

"Oh, so his boyfriend is saving the day?" I just nodded confidently, not focusing on opinions, but on saving my friends life. "Haha, well, depends. How much you have huh?"

"Uh.. I..." I went for my wallet, being met with an empty pocket. "Uh..."

"Nothing, I expected that." He pressed the barrel of the gun to Mitch's temple.

"Stop!" He aimed the gun at me... and fired. Everything went black.

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I watched the fuzzy image appear slowly. My funeral.

It was outside. Well duh Scott. You're going it the ground.

Mitchie was standing in front of the rest of the attendees, shaking with tears but ready to speak.

"He saved my life." His voice was forced sounding, "He had a robber shoot him instead of me. He should've let me die." His eyes flicked to my casket. "He said he loved me, was willing to give everything just so I would be okay. I'm not in the least bit okay, but I'm not dead. I guess that's what he wanted. He wanted me alive." Tears fell from his eyes, sliding down his cheeks, "I would've done the same thing for him. I should be in that casket. I love him. He better know that."