“Don’t. Move.” A hollow clicking sound reverberated through the still air.

Daehyun cursed at himself.

How could he have been so careless?

Carefully starting to turn around, he was whipped out his own gun, but was suddenly met with a cold metal right in the middle of his forehead.

“I said, don’t move.” Looking at the owner of the gun, he felt his blood turn into ice.

“Youngjae?”

The familiar dark brown eyes, usually caring, were almost black, indifferent to whom his target was.

Youngjae’s eyes widened.

“Daehyun?”

His gun wavered.

They stayed like that for a few precious seconds, looking at each other, not budging. 

Youngjae decided to make the first move.

He roundhouse kicked Daehyun’s gun out of his hand, scattering it into some corner.

Daehyun knocked Youngjae’s gun away and tried to pull a punch, but only to have his hand caught.

Youngjae twisted and flipped Daheyun onto his back.

Daehyun tried to sit up, but the wind was completely knocked out of him.

“You’re out of practice, sweetheart.” Youngjae smirked.

Daehyun gave back a smirk of his own.

“Not completely, darling.”

Returning the favor, Daehyun swept out Youngjae’s legs from under him, sending him falling to the floor.

He smashed his elbow into the small of Youngjae’s back, earning a pained groan.

Using a back handspring to get off the floor, Youngjae’s eyes narrowed as he estimated the distance between him and Daehyun.

Landing on his feet gracefully, he grabbed the nearest random thing, a glass bottle, and smashed it on Daehyun’s head.

Crystal pieces flew through the air.

Daehyun stumbled backwards.

Leaping forward, he took hold of Youngjae’s hips and threw him onto the table.

Wooden slivers joined the broken glass on the floor.

Spotting the gun, Youngjae crawled of it, in too much pain to get up.

 Seeing it at the same time, Daehyun yanked Youngjae back and reached for his own gun.

Youngjae grunted, but kept going until he reached the discarded gun and turned around.

Panting, they stood in the same position they were in earlier: both guns out and pointed at one another.

Daehyun smiled weakly, blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth from one of Youngjae’s blows.

“Well? What are you going to do now?”

Youngjae pulled out a lighter and threw it at Daehyun.

The fire caught and grew bright, sparking and popping in the air.

Youngjae admired the burning flames, the various hues of red, orange, and yellow.

He turned to walk out, but stopped when he heard the sound of a gun being readied.

He turned back around and saw Daehyun pointing the gun straight at him, his eyes filled with hate and intense loathing.

Time seemed to slow down for a second, the flames stopped flickering for a moment.

Youngjae’s eyes slowly grew in size and his gaze pleaded with Daehyun, asking him if he would really shoot him.

Daehyun didn’t move.

Then, he fired.