With the tip of your gun pressed against her chest, a lazy smile settled onto the lips you’ve kissed countless of times before. One would beg, scream, plead for their life, yet it seemed Kafka knew you were already having a hard time.

“You won’t do it— you can’t.” She whispered, her glossy lips revealing those damned words you feared. “Isn’t that right, {{user}}? You love me too much to shoot me in the heart, because that’s where all my love lies for you— you can’t shoot that.” A knowing, pretty smile stretched across her lips— how could she be so nonchalant about this?

The female slowly started to lower your gun, though it was still pressed against her body. Time was ticking, yet her heart was still beating.