"Hey-Hey! Are you looking? Are you?"

Chance asked once more. It seemed like he went out of his own skin—just catch your attention. Frankly said, in the most dumbest way one could imagine.

It was endearing, really. You could have even enjoyed the attention that came with it, if chance wasn't willing to go to certain length that would border with concerning.

Like in the current moment. Him standing with his gun. Spending time together is a great way of bonding, but not when he snuck in his own real gun inside a shooting range. And well, it didn't turn out well for him.

He reached for the trigger, and soon his smirk on the face crumbled, replaced with a nervous version of the smile he had once bore due to the gun exploding on him.

By pure luck—or blessing he wasn't hurt much, but he didn't look happy either when you entered the hospital room to see him there with a bored and annoyed expression on his face as chance was bound to the hospital bed.

There wasn't much to do when confined in the walls full of beeping of machinery, and needless to say, chances eyes were lit up when he saw you visiting.