A feeble breath made its way into Dan's mouth, held, as his heart pound against his chest, the heavy beating of it ringing in his ears as his body broke into a sweat and his eyes remained shut, braced against the bullet about to perforate through him. The rapid beat was interrupted as the sound of gunfire proliferated through the air, Dan's body became paralysed with utter fear as he shut his eyes even tighter, even though he couldn't begin to imagine how that was even possible.
Apart from the dull pain in his chest, propelled by sheer horror, Dan didn't feel anything. He wasn't sure how long it had been. Maybe time was just slowing down for Dan because he was so scared. After a few seconds, Dan opened his eyes.
Phil was still standing there, holding the gun up. But as soon as Dan looked at him, he put it down and Dan breathed out, his throat dry and painful. He looked towards Phil, noticing Phil's lifeless eyes which were traced behind him. Dan turned his head, eyes widening at the body behind him. The man crumpled to the floor, gun slipping out of his hand as his body landed in a pile, blood seeping from the incredulously well aimed shot delivered straight to his heart.
A few tears escaped Dan's eyes and his breath came out ragged as he turned back to Phil, relief spreading through his veins like nicotine, craved beyond tangible thought. Dan began to smile but it faltered as Phil turned to clean his gun, his face expressionless yet full of an unfamiliar malevolence. "Ph-Phil?" Dan stuttered, gulping down a mouthful of bile that threatened to escape. Phil looked up at Dan, his fringe flopping over his bright blue eyes. Dan hesitated due nerves and an overwhelming urge to just run up to Phil and seek comfort in his warm and welcoming arms.
Phil looked up at him, his expression clear that he was waiting for Dan to talk. "What- what was that?" Dan asked. Phil sighed, taking a seat and fiddling with his gun, his eyes drooped low almost as if he was bored. Phil smiled a little, finding Dan's attempt at being intimidating slightly amusing. Dan crossed his arms, feeling uncomfortable around Phil for the first time in years and years. Phil raised his eyebrow but straightened up to start talking anyway.
"I was working with that guy. That guy wanted me to kill you. I felt like I owed you enough to not murder you tonight. Plus I was assigned to kill him so," Phil shrugged it off with that. Dan slumped down. "Assigned?" He asked, his tone full of confusion with a sense of uncertainty tinged in between every breath.
"Yeah. I get assigned to kill people. And I kill them. And I get payed for it." He said slowly.
"And how long have you been doing this?" Dan asked.
"Years before we met. This was one of my assignments."
It felt like someone had just ripped Dan's heart out of his chest and stepped on it, crushing every good thought he was having. Dan's shoulders slumped down and he fought to keep the weight of despair off himself. "So... You used me?" He asked, voice surprisingly steady compared to how he felt.
Phil hesitated. "I wouldn't put it like that, Dan. You're a great guy but I just needed to do this. And I can't be with you again after this."
Dan broke. Tears spilled freely out of his eyes as he laughed, his odd breathing accompanied by manic laughter. Phil got up and tried to calm Dan down by placing a hand down gently on his arm. Instantaneously, Dan flinched, shoving Phil's hand back aggressively as he doubled over, laughter and tears mixing to make a pit of uncertainty pool in his stomach.
"Don't you fucking touch me, you fucking bastard!" Dan screamed, tripping over the body of the man Phil had just shot. Dan crouched down, crying and Phil stood there, not knowing what to do.
