Posted in Random

Inspired by Fall Out Boy’s Miss Missing You

A Bullet for Your Love

Sometimes before it gets better
The darkness gets bigger
The person that you’d take a bullet for is behind the trigger

His eyes flutters open when he hears the door creaks upon. Sitting up on his bed, he relaxes when he sees the familiar figure walking closer after closing and locking the door.

“Oh, it’s you. What do you want?”

A soft smile grazes his face when he hears the click of a gun.

“Such a fitting end, don’t you think?” he asks, calmly. “For me to die in the hand of someone I treasure after taking so many people from their loved one.”

Ignoring the gun aimed right at his head, he stretches his body lazily, turning on the bedside lamp. The light flickers on and he smiles when he can see the woman standing beside his bed clearly. She’s wearing traveling clothes, prepared to flee after killing him, surely. Her hair is tucked inside her cap, and her beautiful face is stained with tears.

“I’m sorry,” she sobs, voice cracking. “But I have no other choice. They have… they have my family and… and I…”

He chuckles softly, the rich baritone voice triggers thousands of memories in her head and she can feel her resolution waver. Her legs wobbles, strength seeping out of her body and she struggles just to stand up straight.

He yawns and stands up, getting off the bed and she backs up in alarm. He takes a step forward, and reflexively she pulls the triggers.

He groans when the bullet grazes the side of his body, and her eyes widen with a mix of surprise, guilt, fear, and pain. Her will wavers as blood stained his white t-shirt, and she can’t think straight anymore.

“It’s okay,” he says with a calm soothing voice. “I’m okay.”

She staggers back, as if his words slap her in the face. Her back hit the door to the balcony, and the unlocked door opens. She takes another step back through the door as he takes another step forward, and her legs finally give up when she feels the cold night wind. Tentatively, he takes another step towards her, and she looks at him with teary eyes. Somehow, her hands found their strength back and she lifts the gun again.

“Don’t come any closer,” she shakily warns him. “Don’t come closer or I’ll shoot again.”

Once again, he ignores the gun aimed at him as he walks closer to her until he stands up right in front of her. He squats down, wincing when the fresh wound at his waist send a wave of pain because of his action. He extends his hand and holds her wrist, gently lowering the gun and she burst into fresh tears.

“Sssh, it’s okay,” he cooed, stroking her hair and pulls her closer to him. “I understand. Your family means more to you than me.”

“I understand,” he says, bitter smile in his face and disappointment shown in his eyes. But she missed them, for she cries harder at that exact moment, fisting her free hand on his t-shirt.

“Don’t cry,” he murmurs, caressing her cheeks. She looks up at him, and he smiles before leaning down to kisses her gently.

She pulls back, tears running down her face because she’s an emotional wreck now, torn between her family and the man that means so much to her.

Her eyes widen in horror when she hears the gun clicked once again, and she struggles to pull back as he guides her hand to aim the gun right at his heart.

“I told you, love, I’d take a bullet for you,” he says, looking at her right in her eyes. “Even if you’re the one that pulls the trigger.”

She shakes her head, trying to move her hand but he tightens his grip.

“Goodbye,” he gently says, pressing her index finger on the trigger.

But she hesitates.

And then the sound of gunshot echoes from the balcony and droplets of tears fall to the floor.

Heavy silence fills the air, until one of the two slumped figure moves.

And he stands up, fresh blood staining the front of his white t-shirt.

He stares at the distance, his eagle eyes catch the sight of his best friend and trusted man standing up and dusting the dirt from his own jeans. From the balcony of the man’s own bedroom across the lawn, the man lifts his riffle and makes a mock salute to him before turning back and goes back inside his room.

Sighing, he looks down at her lifeless doll-like figure in the floor, blood pooling around her from the wound in her chest. He feels a pang of sadness in his heart. He did treasure her, more than almost anybody else but his best friend.

Then he touches the still bleeding wound in his waist.

Well, at the very least, he did take a bullet for her.

Erlita Putranti,

Ceritanya habis ndengerin narasumber cerita soal Creative Commons di seminar terus iseng pengen nyoba. Berasa bakal ada yang ngedistribusiin ini tulisan aja

Creative Commons License
A Bullet for Your Love by Erlita Putranti is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at
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An emotionally invested enthusiast of pop culture. Apathetic by design. Aesthetically offensive and eloquently candid. A sentimental heathen.

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