• dedicated to kayxcxxo for being such a lovely human and for your entertaining comments •

[ 09 ]

It was sudden.

One second we were talking and the next, the world shattered into a million pieces, and the sound almost defeaned me.

I could identify the explosions as gunshots and my first instinct was to protect Ethan.

"Get down!" I yelled at him, pushing his head down under the table before doing the same myself.

My breathing was ragged, my heart beating wildly with fear. My throat was tight and my eyes stung.

Glass shattered over my body and I winced as some cut through my arms. The stench of gunpowder wafted to my nose and my stomach flipped.

I crawled towards Ethan and pulled him out of the scene immediately, staying low.

He was still coughing, unused to the dirty air around us. "What's going on?" he choked out.

I didn't look back at him, focused on finding the best way to leave this place - preferably in one piece. "Someone wants to kill you."

"No shit, Sherlock."

I threw him a dirty look. "I expected a better comeback."

Ethan rolled his eyes. "Well, excuse me if I can't really think of a better comeback because I'm in a goddamn life-or-death situation."

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. "Now, don't be ridiculous, Ethan. This is hardly a life-or-death situations. They haven't even used the grenades yet."

A small object with a beeping sound rolled towards us innocently. Grenade.

I blinked. "Fuck."

Pulling Ethan with me, I ran as fast as I could, putting the maximum distance between us and the grenade. Hoping that it was enough.

The explosion came a few seconds after that. I kept running, not letting Ethan slow down behind me.

There was dust everywhere and it was getting harder and harder to see. My eyes were stinging and watery. I think there was a burn on my arm but I didn't break my stride.

The pounding of my heart was almost audible despite the chaos around us. I could see people screaming and running around.

I recalled that the car was parked not far away from the restaurant. We just had to find it.

Which was much easier said than done. It was nearly impossible to navigate through the crowds of people, and the dust particles everywhere were making it hard to breathe.

I came to a stop, trying to figure out our next move. Ethan bumped into me, unable to stop himself in time.

"What are you doing?" he urged, confusion and anxiousness evident in his voice.

My eyes scanned where we were. "Trying to think where the car is."

"We parked just outside the shop, didn't we?"

My mind took me back to tracing our movements prior to entering the restaurant. "Mm-hmm. That's right."

I forced myself to calm down and controlled my harsh breathing. Another gunshot forced me to keep moving forward.

Ethan gasped behind me. "Jesus, this is insane."

I ignored him and turned left, hoping that we were headed in the right direction.

Finally, I felt the ground beneath me soften. Grass. That meant we were going the right way. "C'mon," I urged Ethan, pulling him along faster.

We ran across the grass and when hard concrete greeted us again, I turned right.

Another gunshot rang out. I was panicking. There was no way I alone could protect Ethan. What if someone shot him from behind?

Fuelled by that thought, I pushed him in front of me. "Continue going straight until you hit a dead end. Then turn left," I instructed him, keeping my voice calm and even. I didn't want him to freak out.

Ethan stared back at me, panic clear in his eyes. I forced my lips up as I gave him a reassuring nod.

He bit his lip nervously and started walking. I kept vigilant for guns, my eyes looking around.

There were so many people here. I guess that was expected. The street was filled with shops, and a single gunshot would be enough to get everyone running and screaming.

I felt Ethan turn left. "Now keep going straight."

My hands dug into my pockets for the keys. As the keys laid in my palm, I wondered if I should take the risk. What if someone heard the sound? That would give away our location.

"Otter?"

I looked up to find Ethan searching my gaze.

"Sorry, I-" I trailed off, coming to a snap decision.

Mutely, I lifted my hand up and clicked the button. A loud sound rang out among the chaos.

"Let's go," I said to Ethan.

We moved towards the sound. My fingers clicked the button again. We walked, trying to figure out where it came from.

Finally, I spotted the black car, and it was all I could do not to jump up in joy.

We were running towards it when suddenly, I spotted a man in a black cap on the roof of the building raising up his gun towards us.

My gaze sharpened and it was like I could only see him. Time slowed down and my heartbeat quickened. Ethan.

Again, I yelled, "Get down!" but that didn't felt like enough. I jumped and reached for Ethan, trying to push him down.

That was when I felt the gunshot. Wait, heard. Or did I feel it?

Hot sizzling pain erupted from my side a second later. "Fuck," I grunted as warm liquid trickled across my skin.

Ethan scrambled up from beneath me. "Are you hurt?" he asked anxiously, his eyes wild.

I shook my head and forced myself to stand up. "Let's just get to the car."

"But I heard a gun-"

"Ethan!" I shouted. "That's not important right now. We need to get you to a safe place."

He blinked, then nodded. The car was so near us. All we had to do was survive the next few seconds.

We stayed low and crawled to the vehicle. I hoped that the dust and the people running around proved to be enough distraction for the hitman on the rooftop.

Finally, we reached the car, and the both of us got in right away.

I was sitting in the passenger seat, breathing hard and fast. The scratches on my arm burned as my sweat mixed with it.

I took out my shirt and used it as a wrap against the gunshot wound at my side. The bullet had to be taken out soon, but it could wait until we got out of here.

I looked out of the windows, seeing the same people screaming and running. We were not moving.

My head whipped to Ethan to find him looking at me.

"What are you doing? Drive!" I snapped at him. Was he waiting for his attacker to shoot him again?

He jumped up. "Right."

Finally, the vehicle started moving. I knew we were safe in the car. The windows were bullet-proof and the only way others could stop us was by shooting the tyre.

And I knew first hand just how hard that was.

The air between us was taut with tension and my skin prickled. Only our breathing filled the silence.

At last, he spoke. "Are you okay?"

"Are you concerned about me, Black?" I teased.

A scowl appeared on his face. "Fine. Forget I asked."

I laughed at his temperament. "Come on. Don't be so uptight. I'm fine, but I might need help getting the bullet out."

His head whipped to me instantly. "What?"

"Bullet. I need your help getting it out."

"I knew you were shot!" he exclaimed, both his eyes wide with... wonder?

I didn't know whether or not I should feel insulted that he took pleasure in seeing me hurt. "You could've made yourself sound a little less happy."

"Oh! I didn't mean it that way. It's just-How did it feel?"

I stared at him blankly. "Fantastic," I drawled. "It's a must-try, once-in-a-lifetime experience. Ten out of ten would recommend."

Ethan's face soured and needless to say, I wasn't spoken to for the rest of the journey.

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I stumbled into the house, with Ethan following behind me warily. Vivienna gasped when she saw me.

"Oh my!" she exclaimed, her eyes opened wide. I offered her a weak smile as I limped past her.

My ears pricked up when I heard Ethan speak behind me. "Sorry, Viv. We were in a bit of a situation earlier. Nothing to worry about."

As my legs were taking me up the stairs, my sides burned with every step I took. I grunted in pain.

"Are you alright?"

I turned to see concerned green eyes staring back at me. "Do I look alright?"

Ethan scowled at me. "I was about to offer to carry you upstairs but I guess not anymore."

"I don't want your hands all over me anyway," I snorted, faking a shudder.

But my words came back to bite me in the ass when I stumbled on a step and crashed down. "Fucking hell!" I screamed, feeling like a hundred needles were stabbing my side.

Through the roaring of the blood in my ears, I could vaguely hear the sound of Ethan speaking. I think he said something along the lines of, "Fuck it," but I couldn't be sure.

As I was biting the inside of my cheeks and trying not to scream bloody murder, I suddenly found myself being lifted into the air. What?

Two arms were carrying me, bridal style, and I found my entire right arm pressed up against Ethan's chest. My eyes widened when I realised he was carrying me up the stairs.

"What are you doing?" I croaked out, somehow being unable to speak.

He glanced down at me, a dark lock of hair sweeping over his eyes. "Carrying you, of course."

Duh. I wanted to ask more - to ask why he was doing this - but I decided against it. That question was screaming for an insult as an answer, or a very, very uncomfortable revelation that would make me... very uncomfortable.

I closed my eyes, trying not to think about how close we were, how I could feel the heat of his body, hear the sound of his heartbeat, and smell the scent of his skin.

My heart was pounding vigorously and I convinced myself that it was the adrenaline. That's right. The adrenaline.

Finally, we entered a bedroom. I mean, his bedroom. Ethan dropped me down on his bed, the smooth silk beneath me further aggravating my filthy skin.

"Okay, um, what do you need?"

I looked up, finding Ethan shuffling on his feet. My lips lifted at his uncertainty. "I need the bullet out of me."

He frowned. "So, do I call a doctor here?"

I shook my head. "No, no doctors."

"Then how the hell do we get the bullet out?"

My hands dug into my pockets, trying to find-Aha! I pulled out the knife and the lighter and set them on the bed.

"Use the knife and get the bullet out," I told Ethan matter-of-factly.

He made no move to start getting the bullet out. I glared at him. "Ethan!"

He startled. "W-What?"

"I said, use the knife and get the bullet out."

His eyes widened. "Holy shit, I didn't hear wrongly." And again, he was just standing there, wide-eyed and shell-shocked.

"Get the bullet out of me, Ethan!" I yelled, the dull pain at my sides not soothing my temperament.

"Oh! Yes, yes. Bullet. Right." He grabbed the knife, then hesitated. "Without anesthesia?"

"Ethan," I warned, pushed to my maximum limit. "If you don't start getting the bullet out right this instant..."

"Okay, okay. Let's get this bullet out of you."

The knife prodded deep in my flesh and I grunted in pain.

Ethan stopped right away. "Are you okay?"

I closed my eyes. "Keep going."

"But-"

"Ethan, keep going."

The knife slid into my wound once more. I bit down on my lip to stop groans of pain from escaping. I breathed deeply, every fibre of my being screaming at me to run away from the knife.

In, out. In, out. In, out.

"Why are you taking so long?" I rasped, the pain robbing me of my voice.

"I'm sorry!" Ethan said frantically.

In, out. In, out. In, out.

Finally, I heard the sacred words. "It's out!" Ethan exclaimed, a note of triumph in his voice.

My mouth curved. "Do you have any First Aid kits around?"

Ethan scrambled up. "Oh, yes, yes. We do. Um, it's right... here." He dragged a white box from under his bed.

"You have to clean the wound," I said.

Ethan nodded, his hands opening the box and taking out a bottle filled with yellow liquid. Pouring it onto a piece of cotton wool, he turned to face me.

"This might sting a little," he warned.

My lips lifted. "I think I can handle it," I said dryly.

He cleared his throat. "Right."

I felt the cotten wool press against my skin. He swiped it around my wound, cleaning up the blood.

His fingers were gentle on my skin. The feel of him was messing with my head. My chest expanded on a deep breath. He seemed surprisingly adept at this, I mused. Like he had experience cleaning up wounds.

When he was done, I let out a sigh of relief. This would be over soon.

"Now, heat up the blade," I told him.

"What? It's not over?"

"Heat up the blade."

"A-Alright."

He lit up the lighter and brought it close to the knife.

After a beat, I spoke again. "Press that blade against my skin."

"What?"

I glanced up at him. If I wasn't injured, I would've laughed. The look of incredulity on his face was precious. "It's to close up the wound, Sherlock."

"B-But it's hot!"

"I am aware of that, Ethan."

Ethan blinked at me. "Okay."

The scalding blade pressed against my skin and I hissed. I forced my body to stay still, letting the heat do its job.

"Okay," I choked out. "Now bandage it up."

I heard Ethan fumbling in the box. He swiped something on my wound again before bandaging it.

After he was done, I pulled my shirt back down. "Thanks." And I meant it.

"Sure," Ethan replied, his face still pale. "Feel free to call me every time you need a bullet removed. It's a great experience. Ten out of ten would recommend."

I did something I never thought I would do after getting shot. I laughed.

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oh god i'm kind of shit at writing action (( which begs the question - why did i write this novel? )) so i'm sorry u had to read that hahah. bUT IN MY DEFENCE, this scene wasnt meant to be all that action-y bc its supposed to just set the scene for future action (( which hopefully will be much more well-written than this one. ))

until next time,
fleur xoxo