[He wants to. He really fucking does. But even as Razlo stares down at him, and he knows deep down that this man isn't Livio as much as he is...he's still...
The metal of the gun rattles against itself as he adjusts his grip, the embossed handle glinting in the low light of the room. Razlo may not have noticed it yet, but their heartspaces have long since blended together. The sound of church bells in the distance rings over them both ominously.
Is it meant to be hopeful, or akin to a funeral march?
...Razlo is right, though. He can't. Not when he doesn't know what would happen if he did, and even then...that's still Livio's face looking back at him.
For a moment, the angle of the gun falters. It falls away from Razlo's chest, away from his vitals.
Then, with the speed of a striking snake, he whips up the pistol and holds it point blank at his shoulder, and fires. He has every intent to use the space in between to get the fuck out of here.
no subject
The metal of the gun rattles against itself as he adjusts his grip, the embossed handle glinting in the low light of the room. Razlo may not have noticed it yet, but their heartspaces have long since blended together. The sound of church bells in the distance rings over them both ominously.
Is it meant to be hopeful, or akin to a funeral march?
...Razlo is right, though. He can't. Not when he doesn't know what would happen if he did, and even then...that's still Livio's face looking back at him.
For a moment, the angle of the gun falters. It falls away from Razlo's chest, away from his vitals.
Then, with the speed of a striking snake, he whips up the pistol and holds it point blank at his shoulder, and fires. He has every intent to use the space in between to get the fuck out of here.
Assuming...he can figure out where "out" is.]