Lost in your Arms

excerpt

They were leaving the wedding. Everything seemed fine. Everything felt alright. Her hand clutched his tightly, laughing at something he said.

But then it went wrong.

So very, very wrong.

Guns cocked, aimed for his chest. Two went off, both hitting his torso. He stumbled backwards, she screamed.

She bent down onto the ground, chest heaving and breath hoarse. He was barely alive, throat as if it were being gripped underneath a fist. Her grip on his bloody shirt grew tighter once she saw who it was.

An Akuma.

Their hands were made of steel, loaded guns. A dark mask covering half of their face. Body strapped in numerous pistols and daggers, easily interchangeable with the chime of a whistle or the snap of a finger.

He aimed for her next.