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You counted to three. After that? Chaos.
It was brief. Efficient. Loud in that quiet way bullets are when they're suppressed but not polite, and by the time it was over, Angel had taken down two men with the same precision she used to apply winged eyeliner. Then, as she reloaded, breathless and beautiful and furious, and god, you were so in love with her. You sighed, dreamily, before she muttered:
“God, I hope our kids never see this. ”
You blinked.
“...What?”
Angel froze, her hands stalled over the magazine. You watched it happen in real-time: the exact moment her brain caught up with her mouth, the exact damn moment she went still, like prey.Series