Walton:
Naturally, I missed. Of course, expecting to hit something was my fault seeing as my aim was worse than a cow’s in a sandstorm, but I had completely missed. The bullet hadn’t even grazed a hair on either of the men’s heads. Their gaze was fixed on me now, and I was frozen to the spot, afraid to move. One of the men quickly approached me, his dark eyes steely, but a cruel smile toying at his lips.
“This guy really thought he could hit us?” he chuckled, addressing his partner. “With aim like that, he’d miss someone a foot in front of him!”
The other man snickered quietly, still eyeing the boy crouched on the ground. I saw their distraction as an opportunity and took aim again. Despite the steely-eyed man’s teasing, I could hit a target that was a few feet away, which meant I could hit him (hopefully).
I pulled the trigger while his head was turned, bracing for the recoil, the cold metal heavy in my hands.
Click. The gun was empty- just my luck.
“Fuuuuu-” I groaned, cutting myself off before the whole swear rolled off my tongue with ease I associated with stress. This time the other man was also glaring at me. Both eyes were aloof and metallic- one pair dark the other a frosty blue, but both were equally miffed.
The one nearest me started laughing, low and dry, “ This little fucker really thought he’d try again.” He purred the words out from a tense jaw. Something flickered in his eyes and I shivered, apprehensive of the emotion lurking behind his seemingly calm mask.
“Hey, Jordan,” the blue-eyed man grunted. “Don’t hurt him. He isn’t from around here, The police can’t ignore a case when it has to do with an interstellar traveler.”
The man, Jordan I presumed, paid no heed to the advice of his friend. Rather, he smiled down at me the way a predator grins at its prey right before it tears its head off. I rose to my feet, fumbling to find my balance. Now, I was pretty tall, but Jordan was still above me, towering at somewhere near 7 feet. He was well proportioned, far from lanky with his well-defined muscles that were brilliantly showcased by his black tank top. Slithering tattoos crossed his arms and I couldn't help but wonder how much they had hurt to get, since they were actually moving across his toned forearms and biceps.
He walked towards me, closing the distance until it felt like I was trapped in a lion’s paws, about to be eaten. He reached towards me suddenly, striking out like a snake, and grabbed my jaw, forcing me to look up at him.
“This one’s got a pretty nice face, no? He could fetch a pretty penny in the right circles.” His friend just sighed and rolled his blue eyes back into his head, seemingly used to this sort of behavior.
His grip tightened and his face was suddenly looming mere inches above mine, his hot breath dusting my cheeks. Startled, I slapped his hand away, drawing a loud swear of “Bastard!” from his mouth followed by a hand grabbing my throat and slamming me back into the wall. The impact rattled through my whole skeleton, forcing the air out of my lungs. I wheezed desperately as the hand tightened more around my windpipe, threatening to crush it.
“It seems this little bastard doesn’t know what kind of position he’s in” Jordan sneered, anger rolling off of him in almost visible waves. Before I could even react, he struck me with the butt of his gun, freeing me from his throat-crushing grip but also throwing me down on the ground. My cheek throbbed as I gulped in air desperately. My only weapon had flown from my grip and skidded out of reach, leaving me to face my adversary empty-handed.
“Fucking annoying little shit!” Jordan spat at me as I groaned. I looked up at him slowly, but when I met his eyes, his temper flared again. He kicked me square in the stomach, his foot burying itself into my flesh and driving me up against the wall once again.
“Don’t look at me.” He snarled, and then spat on my face, his foot still pressing into my gut. However, things were finally in my favor because he was now in range Despite disgracing guns with my aim, I was quite talented in a completely different method of defense.
Shifting my weight, I grabbed his leg and flipped him downwards while simultaneously driving up and over him so that he was pinned beneath me. All of this happened in the blink of an eye, so when the dust figuratively cleared, the other man was shocked and, feeling threatened, turned his gun towards me.
The boy who’d been quiet and still until now, to the point that I’d forgotten he was there, took this momentary distraction as an opportunity to disarm the man at a ridiculous speed and shoot him once in each leg. I couldn’t help but be envious of the casual, yet undeniably skillful way he’d handled the gun. The man I’d pinned down started to struggle, the initial shock having worn off. The boy saw him struggling and turned towards me, gesturing for me to move.
I obeyed, and, just as casually as he’d shot the other man, the boy send a bullet through Jordan’s shoulder. Jordan, to his credit, didn’t even flinch and even began to struggle to his feet, almost as though he couldn’t feel the pain.
I stood up quickly, not sure of what to do. Without thinking too much about it, I grabbed the boy by his thin, pale wrist and started running back towards the Kione, dragging him along with me.
I only stopped running when we reached my ship. I was panting, out of breath, and my hand was still tightly clutching the wrist of the pink-haired boy.
I turned around to face him and asked, “Are you okay?”
He had sweat running down his face and neck, eventually disappearing under the low neckline of his shirt where it mingled with his blood. Little droplets of his sweat collected on the sharp angle of his collarbone, resting momentarily before slipping down again. His cheeks were flushed, bright against the skin that was so pale I began to worry about his blood loss again.
“I’m fine-” He hasped, chest heaving. “ But my sister needs a cryo tank.” As he said this he pushed his loose hair out of his eyes and gazed up at me.
“I’ve already bothered you enough, but-”
I couldn’t tear my gaze away from his golden one for even just a second. Something about him intrigued me more than I’d like to admit. He had a story hidden somewhere inside him and I desperately wanted to know it, despite my suspicions and misgivings.
Interrupting him, I said, “ Use our cryo tank. We have, um-” I eyed his wounds. Maybe a hospital would be the better decision. “- showers and medical supplies, but you should really go see a doctor.”
He smiled suddenly, a grin teasing up the corner of his mouth. “No need,” he chuckled. “ I can take care of these wounds myself.” As these words left his lips, he promptly passed out, falling flat on his face with an audible “whump!”
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