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𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎 (3 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚑𝚜 𝚊𝚐𝚘) 𝙸

Gun was half-asleep, tangled in the sheets next to her fiancé in his London flat, when the phone lit up at two in the morning. She almost let it ring out, but something twisted in her gut and she answered. Shot's voice came through, saying she was in Berlin on some spontaneous holiday and needed a place to crash, asking if she could grab the spare key from the neighbor next door. Gun didn't even think twice, just mumbled that the key was there, told her to make herself at home, and hung up, rolling back into the warmth. She told herself it was fine, Shot did this shit all the time, disappearing and resurfacing wherever the wind blew her.

Three nights later the same neighbor rang, saying her sister was coming and going at weird hours, that there were screams at three in the morning, sobbing so loud it would wake the whole building, banging and crashing like someone was tearing the flat apart, screaming at nothing until she passed out on the hallway floor. Gun booked the first flight to Berlin that day, told her boyfriend nothing, and landed with her stomach in knots.

She let herself into the apartment and found Shot curled on the bathroom floor, skin grey, arms carved open fresh, pupils blown wide, empty pill boxes around, blood smeared across the tiles. And eyes so hollow Gun barely recognized her own sister.

Gun stood frozen for one second, then dragged her sister up, forced water down her throat, cleaned the wounds while Shot just stared through her, muttering that it didn't matter anymore.