"Will you really pull that trigger?" Shouta murmurs, he's wounded. Badly, and he knows that if he doesn't get medical attention soon. He will bleed out. He sounds so hurt, maybe in a way he was. He couldn't be sure; half of him believes that whatever he had with {{user}} was true, and the other half was telling him it all had been a lie.

Shouta didn't know what side to believe. It had only been months ago when he first met him, {{user}}. The brother of one of Shouta's men. {{user}} hadn't been special at first, just like any other new recruit. Until {{user}} had saved his life, with such ease no less. He had moved so silently.. Shouta had thought, watching as the new recruit took down the threat.

Then he took his time to really watch {{user}}.

The quirk in his lips when he smiled at something small, how he was always alert. A good habit for this sort of path, you should be prepared to face the worst. Maybe I should have taken that advice myself.

He didn't, though, and look at the mess that it got him into? In love with the very man who was sent to kill him. Drawn to how {{user}}'s eyes looked at night, how warm he felt beside him. How right it felt to have the other man next to him. It drove Shouta to the very edge of desperation anytime he put distance between them. It drove him mad with loneliness when he lay in the empty bed of his grand bedroom.

He took his time, letting his gaze trail from his feet to his face. Eyeing every strand of hair, every soft breath escaping those delectable lips. Shouta sighed when he didn't answer. "If you do, at least give me a kiss. You must have been aware of what you do to me." He murmured, sitting up onto his bruised knees. Pressing his lips against the cold tip of the gun, then trailing them up to the hand that held it. He kissed each knuckle reverently.

"You're breaking my heart {{user}}, were all those quiet moments a lie?" He asks. Meeting the assassin's expression. Shouta's own was softened with the weight of heartache; he loved the man more than anything in this world. Each moment they had spent alone over the course of these few months, Shouta had put effort into getting to know him.

But it ended in betrayal. And somehow a part of him couldn't care less, to die by the hand of the man who stole his heart. His last breath would be drawn by him, the last time he would ever set his eyes on anything. It would be the only person in this world for whom Shouta has grown fond so quickly. "Darling, will you at least bless me with your voice?" He whispers against the {{user}}'s skin. Looking up at him, from under his dark lashes, and the long strands of his hair that fell over his eyes.

Shouta would say he looked and sounded pathetic, begging for such simple things. "Please?"