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Taeyong held the gun up in his hand, watching and waiting for the exact second. It flinched, the world slowed and he narrowed his eyes.
Lift up, keep still, pull the trigger.
suddenly a sharp noise tore through the air and parts of metal sprayed everywhere, taeyong breathed out, trying to come down from the adrenaline rush. It hit him every time, made him feel alive. He let the clip fall to the floor and a shell casing soon followed, cocking the gun back to place.
"It scares me every time you shoot something. I feel like you truly are a serial killer." Yuta breathed out his last lung full of smoke, flicking the cigarette down the stairs.
Taeyong shurgged, looking at his best friend who smiled wickedly. He's done this since he was born, shoot things, fight things, survive. He was seen as lethal and immortal, it suited his quiet and leading demeanor.
Yuta in the other hand? Full of energy that constantly keeps him ticking. He was made to fight his way through 200 men, always on edge. With Yuta you could see when he would break and how. With taeyong it was a shot in the dark, and you'd never know if he'd kill you.
They stared at the small electronic bird. A fuse shorted and it erupted in a ball of flames.
"You fucking hit that small ass humming bird Jaehyun made out of air, its so small." Yuta kept yelling as they went to it. The killer crouched down and gently grabbed the mechanical bird, flames dying near his cold touch.
"Wasn't my best, took too long." Taeyong's voice was deep, speech lazy and down right seductive with out meaning to.
"TY, you did that in less then three seconds. A trained marksmen takes a minute to hit his target in the field with no threat of being found. And that was the best sniper in the world. You? Three seconds." Yuta patted him on the back, stench of cigarettes flooded Taeyong's nostrils. His eyes watered and he slightly stepped back. Yuta didn't take offense, this was his best friend. He knew the killer's triggers. Sometimes Yuta took it to his advantage.
He knew Taeyong since his first killing, age 17? Or was it 16? He didn't care, Taeyong was a prized friend. "Thanks, Nakamoto." Taeyong mumbled, tossing the bird in the trash as Yuta followed him out of the range.
"Seriously, Taeyong. I want you to know you are amazing. I want you back."
Taeyong looked at the Japanese, eyes dark as always with his white fringe dangling above. He smiled at Yuta, a smile that was very rare. "You tempt me with a gun every time." It was true, Yuta brought him to this range with this pistol to shoot for this exact reason. Taeyong has never even touched that specific military authorized weapon only before. Yet he just dismantled it with out a thought.
"Because I want you out of here- out of this... shit hole." Yuta looked around, everything in a horror movie was here. He wanted his best friend back in Seoul, back in the heart.
"Ani~" taeyong whined, a laugh escaping at the turn events. Taeyong swore four months ago he would take a two year long break after falling from twenty stories and being in a coma for a year. He awoke hand cuffed to a hospital bed, in a sheer moment of panic he stabbed the officer with an IV embedded in his arm. Taeyong was on the Red list.
"Taeyong it was one time, beside you only fucking broke a few bones." Yuta argued as they walked out to Taeyong's 'living room' very shitty.
"Breaking my back n' my fuckin' arms don't sound like a few."
