乇卩|乙ㄖ́

匚卄卂卩ㄒ乇尺 千|千ㄒ乇乇几

Griff was insistent that I stay in the hotel because of my episode, but I stayed stubborn as ever.

I had to constantly reassure him that I was fine, and we finally left the hotel.

We changed into some fresh clothes that we stole from Oregon.

I wore an awfully comfortable outfit that also came with protection. Griff just looked like a grandpa who came from the Founding Father times.

"Alright, first immature lesson of the day. Have you ever shot a gun before?" Griff asked, holding a pistol that he stole from one of the dead guys outside.

"Yeah, I have. I didn't do it much because there were hardly any monsters where I was. Why?"

"I'm going to teach you how to handle it better. I'm gonna teach you how to aim and be quick on your feet with it,"

He let the ammo fall into his hand, replacing it with a new pack.

"How fast can you work with one in a battle?" I asked him, grabbing ahold of the loaded pistol he handed me.

"They used to time me back at the camp. I used guns more often because my power was only a last resort. Once I left, I used my power more as I thought of it as something to be proud of. I don't know if I still have it or if I'm rusty now. Back then, though, my reload time was .5 seconds, and I could unload a clip in under a minute," he explained, raising his own pistol to a target we made out of random materials.

"That's depending on how many bullets the gun holds, of course,"

I wouldn't normally encourage gun violence even in the times we were in.

But that's kind of hot.

"Wanna time me?" I felt his stare from over his shoulder, burning deep into my own.

"Of course,"

He handed me a pocket watch, briefly explaining how to time it.

I held my finger at the ready, waiting for him to give the signal.

"Start."

When I clicked the button, the old ammo was already on the ground.

He placed the new ammo in, then clicked the gun.

I clicked 'stop' on the watch, breathing heavily like I was the one doing the fast switch.

"How was that?"

I stared at the number in shock, kind of amazed how he didn't grow rusty at all.

"0.5, just like old times," I breathed out, laughing a bit in my amazement.

I could tell that he enjoyed the praise. His smirk had cockiness written all over it.

"We won't time the shooting. This is about you, after all. I just wanted to flex a bit," he spoke with no shame at all.

I scoffed with amusement, beginning to move around his body.

"Is that right? Well then, give me the attention."

The scarlet red spreading on his face didn't go unnoticed, I just wanted to save him from further embarrassment.

We spent the majority of the afternoon just shooting at the poor bag of expired rice.

Griff insisted on giving it faces, and he explained that each of the faces were of people from the camp he didn't like.

I was considering asking him more about the camp now that he was a bit more comfortable, but it still seemed like a sensitive topic.