Black Roses and White Chrysanthemum

sharpshooter °2.1° a

"To your left, three degrees," Changkyun mumbled, checking through the zoomed landscape with his binoculars, letting them drop down a second to glance at his partner, laying on his stomach as well in the dead grass.

Jooheon had adjusted rightly, making up for the slight breeze. Through the scope of his sniper rifle, crosshairs trained on the outside of the relatively tall building before them, at least two stories bigger than any other. It stuck out like a sore thumb in the mostly run down city (or what had been left of one) and it was even more so strange, because the constant guard watch outside. That was, after all, the target. They had a few hours - tops - before it would be crumbling down.

But for now the most important thing was keeping watch. Making sure nothing suspicious happened to throw off the plan. And that's why Jooheon and Changkyun were here, waiting. Watching.

But it was pretty lonely on this distant, grassy hill.

"I don't think anything is gonna change," Jooheon complained, dropping the scope down to meet Changkyuns face with a pout. "Its been the same for the last two hours."

Changkyun sighed, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. "Our shift will be ending in like forty some minutes. Just hold out for a little while longer, Jooheonnie."

Still, the prospect of that long sounded like a downer. Though it wasn't even that much compared to how much they had already waited.

Jooheon rolled over onto his back, letting out a long sigh between parted lips. He glanced around the bland hill, the only significant thing about it was the little out cropping of white flowers here and there. Since there was nothing else to do, he gazed at them lazily. They were pretty flowers. Delicate, in a way.

"What're those called again?" Jooheon asked, rolling his head over to the other, and Changkyun put his binoculars back down. He only had to look at those white flowers for a second to recognize them. He'd seen them too many times for his own liking.

"Chrysanthemum, white Chrysanthemum more specifically." Changkyun looked at the older, who hummed and nodded slightly.

"Do you know what they mean?" Jooheon was interested in Changkyuns knowledge now, rolling back to his stomach and bumping shoulders with the younger.

Changkyun didn't smile. "Death." He spoke as if through a thick fog of thought, staring past Jooheon at the pretty little flowers.