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"If you wanted to kill me," Avgust said softly, his voice smooth like velvet, "you would've done it long ago." His blue eyes gleamed with something dangerous, something daring. "Now that I've given you the chance, you hesitate."

Assad's chest tightened. Avgust wasn't wrong. He didn't hesitate, not with anyone else. So why now? Why him? The question gnawed at Assad's mind, an unease crawling up his spine as Avgust's words dug deep.

"Nah," Assad muttered, his voice thick, rough. "Ain't no hesitation. Just ain't wanna kill you when you expectin' the shit." His grip tightened on Avgust's shoulder, his own pulse thrumming with an intensity he couldn't quite place.

Avgust leaned in, his breath warm against Assad's face, their lips inches apart. "Dying by your hands is all I would want," he whispered, his words laced with something almost... pleading. "Put this old dog out of his misery."

The air between them was thick, electric. Assad could feel the heat rolling off Avgust, the weight of their connection pressing down on him. This wasn't just about the gun, about the power they both held. It was about them-two men on opposite sides, drawn together by something neither could control.