farfalla

XXIII.

Hand wrapped around the gun, my arms extended in front of me aiming at the target Harry had set for me. After my lack of focus in combat training and the physical contact of it all, Harry said its best we take a break from it. The funny part about his logic is that with a gun I require more help since I've only shot a gun a handful of times in my life.

I was only taught very simple and basic things when it came to firearms. I think it was because my other caretakers thought of me as a fragile doll. Some treated me like I was glass and with one wrong move, I would shatter right in front of them. I hated the way they looked at me, the look of constant pity.

"When you're ready, go ahead." Harry encouraged after he positioned my arms to the right position. His muscles bulging every time he moved his arms, I loved the way his body moved.

Taking in a deep breath and moving all my concentration to the target I narrowed my vision on the fixed point. Pulling back on the trigger my heart rate accelerated from the fact that I was holding something deadly.

Once I am sure that my aim is perfect I pull my trigger finger and hear the loud bang ring out of the barrel. Lowering my arms Harry takes the gun by its barrel and walks over to the target where I follow behind to see if I had hit where I set out to.

"You're trying too hard," Harry spoke when he saw where the bullet pierced through the target he had taped to the palm tree.

"I thought I had it. I focused in and made sure I was steady..." I saw how my aim was completely off from where I had originally planned for the bullet to go. I was supposed to be aiming for the head and instead, it went above the head.

"Don't try so hard." Harry critiqued getting me back into the right positions. Handing me the gun and holding my arms while my body pressed against his I could feel myself melting once again.

I almost hated when my body did this. When it would lose any bit of concentration it ever held just by touching Harry. It seemed to forget what it was doing previously like it had no memory of what I needed it to do. My mind went with my body, completely losing focus because Harry was near and pressing himself against me for teaching reasons.

"Remember to keep your aim straight." Harry released my hands that wrapped around the gun and walked away from me. Erasing any of the body heat between us that had conducted when our bodies were against each other.

Trying it all over again I did what I could to relax my tense muscles. I was a person who became easily frustrated when I didn't get something right away. I was better in hand to hand combat and could hold my own confidently when Harry tested me. I didn't match Harry's abilities and most likely never would but I could easily hold my own and get away from a situation if needed.

On the other hand, Harry and I had been out here all afternoon and I still hadn't gotten a decent shot. My frustrations were only growing and I was little by little losing my patience.

"You're aimed too high, move down slightly," Harry instructed while I kept my eyes narrowed on the target. Only making a slow and slight movement I heard Harry start to say something.

"Too low. Small movements!" Again I try to do as he instructs and move in the slightest up. Anger building in my bones I pull the trigger without any other word and see where it hits.

Rolling my eyes I throw the gun to the ground and sigh out loudly. Visibly irritated I heard Harry call out my name.

"Mia! What the hell?!"

"I'm done." I spat not able to keep my concentration any longer. Going to the back door from the backyard I stomped away.

"Mia get back here now!" Harry called after me, who was clearly not in the mood to be coaxed back to where the root of my frustration was.