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Instead, he watches him fall to the ground, crashing against a desk before hitting the cold floor. He looks rabid, mouth parted, dark eyes peering up at him. Suho wonders if he’ll start biting at the air, foaming at the mouth. If Suho was lucky, maybe he’d get a hiss, or a nail digging into the skin draped across his wrists.
Sieun now seemed completely unperturbed by the body laying on the ground. The scope of his gun had shifted, predation clawing for Suho. He shivered at his gaze, sharp and narrow, pinning him to the ground beneath him. His sole focus was on him.