Lanceâs smile faltered the instant other soldiers stepped in front of him. Was thisâ was this aâÂ
      â Sh-Shiro, dude, you were never good a jokes! Why do you have your                  posse on me, theyâre freakinâ me out! âÂ
That bad feeling was back again. Twisting in his gut, pulling at his chest. The way that Shiroâs frown didnât twitch like it usually did when he was trying to joke, and the fact that⌠those other soldiers seemed to be in no part of a joke made his stomach drop.. Lanceâs mind was already predicting the worse.Â
(It could also be how cold âcivilianâ sounded. Lance didnât hear the threat. He heard the detachment. He felt his heart ache.)Â
Laugh turning weak, worried, Lance took one more step closer. Not looking at the other soldiers. Looking at Shiro, in the eyes. His voice got soft and terrifiedâÂ
       â Youâre freaking me out. â
Shiro chanced another glance at the sweet-smelling boy, raising a brow to his words. They didnât register in his mind as familiar. They didnât seem important. But the longer he stared, the more his head started to hurt and the more faded Feridâs voice became.Â
His vision felt fuzzy...he felt nauseous. Everything about this place felt strangely wrong to him...though he had never been here before, it sent chills down his spine. He spared another glance at the boy, smooth cheeks and eyes that looked like a deep, chocolatey galaxy. For a second he was reminded of someone else, of a time long ago, of a time he didnât remember...couldnât remember. But it was just for a second, because the next second his vision was nothing but red and his right arm nearly acted on its own and suddenly the boyâs throat was in his hand, just mere seconds from being crushed to smithereens. Shiro leaned forward, baring his teeth. âDo you have a death wish?â But he did not kill the boy, but instead dropped him to the ground and carried about his work. That boy was not part of Feridâs mission. He was not important...worthless.
