🔫
Send "🔫" to hold my muse at gun point.
“Are you going to shoot me, Richard?”
Mycroft didn’t sound scared. His voice didn’t waver, and he didn’t stumble over his words. Mycroft sounded curious.
He’d started down the barrel of a gun before. It wasn’t an activity that he particularly enjoyed - although, Mycroft did have to admit that facing possible death did bring a certain thrill that he couldn’t recreate elsewhere.
“I don’t think you have it in your to shoot me. I don’t think you could look a man in the eyes as you take his life.”










