Summary: One shot of a certain girl that loved a certain gun loving psychopath…

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She was silly to think something could happen between the two of them

Correction. She was stupid. She was a god damned fucking idiot thinking that something could occur between the two of them

She was just a rookie.

He was the commander of the military unit they were both part of. A demon they called him.

The on going thing was that he was a gun loving psychopath that never missed his mark. He had that “I’m going to rape you” type of gaze most of the time, even when he smiled. He never seemed to realize it though; it had just come natural to him during all of the fighting and the life of a gun man. They called him crazy, because frankly, he was crazy in his own unique sort of way.

He smelled of cigarette smoke all of the time.

Nathaniel has always said it was a bad habit of his. Said he wanted to quit sometime. But he never did.

At least he said it to her with a smile when she asked about it that one time.

She didn’t know if it was admiration for him, or just the fact that they were suddenly becoming such good friends with in the fighting and the killing going on around them. Or maybe it was because she was young and she wanted someone to cling onto during this time. And he was always there. Through the gun fire and bloody screams of a battle, through the dead silence and tense nights… he was always there.

Always.

It was perfectly understandable for her to fall in love with him, right?

So what went wrong?

The gun was trained on her. It had to be. There were two shots before her, and two sounds of bodies slumping to the ground. Next to her, her another man was dead, killed execution style most likely. Both of the two men were acquaintances of hers and of his, the four of them had worked side by side, pulling each other through the maddening hell that the world had turned into.

She couldn’t tell what was occurring now; the blind fold kept her concealed in the darkness.

She was next.

Why wasn’t she more afraid of what was happening?

“Shawna… Renolds…” the sound of his voice gruffly said.

She kept her head down. Trying to picture him at that moment was harder than she thought it to be. The dark hair, the clear eyes, the weathered hands, the rough face… he was most likely in Clan uniform now, the black, red, and silver dress uniforms that distinguished them all above the rest.

It was funny, she had kissed that man once before.

Shawna felt the gun barrel placed against the top of her head, towards the back. She cringed. Now she was afraid. She bit her lower lip in an attempt not to scream.

A feint breeze brought the smell of cigarette smoke to her. Cigarette smoke and blood.

Don’t scream don’t scream don’t scream don’t scream.

The sound of a single gun shot rang out through the execution court yard.

All he did was watch her slump down to the ground.