Let Me Call You Mine

Untitled Part 11

"You" I managed to breathe out, panting but he pays me no heed.

He casts me a glance, eyes gleaming in the dark- standing out. Then the hand on my shoulder slips down to my arm, pulling me aside just as the three remaining men round the corner.

He pushes me behind him while keeping a hand on me at the same time he pulls out a gun with his other hand and firing.

He doesn't hesitate. He fires three times, three simple shots, one shot hitting all three men square on their chest.

My body tenses up, staring with wide eyes at the bodies on the ground. Blood pools around them and I force myself to look away- to at least breathe.

He didn't falter when he shot them. Hell, he doesn't even look bothered at the mere fact that he killed three people.

Just like that.

Suddenly I feel like throwing up.

He shifts, hand coming up to firmly grip my shoulders. It's wasn't particularly a hard grip but with everything that just happened, with the amount of fighting and bullets I dodged, it was enough to make me flinch. As if on autopilot, I raised the gun.

He easily catches the muzzle. He calmly yanks it from my hand and tosses it aside. My eyes remains unfocused, staring blankly at the ground before a hand comes up to grip my chin, forcing it up.

"I believe you owe me one" Unblinking, I held his gaze. The sound of my heart still pounding against my ears and the only thing that's keeping me from straight up losing it is his grip on my shoulder and chin.

It's surprising because I'm pretty sure the action is meant to be more threatening than grounding.

Let alone comforting.

"Darling"

"You're bleeding" Only then did the numbness around my arm subsides. At least enough for me to feel the sting of the wound.

I glanced at my arm, finding that it is indeed bleeding from a large gash at the upper part. It looks fine, I mean it doesn't look deep enough to require stitches but the blood- I sucked in a deep breath, tears prickling my eyes as I closed them momentarily.

There's blood. Like from that day.

"RETREAT!"

We're losing

"RETREAT!"

We lost-

"You're shaking darling" I wasn't aware that I started heaving, breath coming out in short pants and hands balled into fists. There's an excuse rolling at the tip of my tongue, a denial. A habit I've come to terms with.

I forced my eyes open and relief floods me when there was no blood in sight, no fire, no more gunshots and the denial fades in my mouth.

I leaned my weight against the wall expecting him to let go but he doesn't so I ended up pulling him along with me.

I'm sure he has a lot of questions I'm not too willing to answer but despite our circumstances I have enough presence of mind to be thankful that he doesn't say anything. Instead of asking, from what my foggy brain can gather, I can feel those fingers gently rub circles into my neck, right at where my pulse is at.

It's weird and out of place because again, I barely know him but it's grounding me to reality. It's weird how my subconscious trusts him enough but right now I won't question it any further. This is weird but it's nice- almost comforting to the point where I find myself leaning towards the contact, breath slowly evening out but-