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Summary
He'd been cursed by the feeling of laying beside Vash in a warm bed, tracking the backs of his knuckles along his handsome face as he whispered little secrets about himself into the darkness, smiling, soft, careful. Beautiful in every single way. He'd been cursed by the sight of Vash, tossing his head back on the pillows and moaning Wolfwood's name as loud as weapons blasting in his eardrums, and it changed him.
He couldn't let anything happen to him. He refused to let this human shoot him, possibly kill him, hurt him...
He refused.
So, he shot him.
From across the town center, Wolfwood pulled the trigger.
