đŞ - razormouthed !
âHere.â
It clattered slightly against the little card table as Sergei set it down gently. He slid it towards her before crossing his arms and leaning back comfortable in his cheap little folding chair. The tiny, single-shot derringer sat there unassumingly. Cold, hard, and small, it betrayed its own nature. A gun like this was loud. Small, but flashy. It was good for making a getaway. Up close it could kill, but from a distance it would only give you a chance to scare away whoever was on your tail.
âNot my style, but... I thought you might like. To strap to your leg. Or something.â He shrugged noncommittally and glanced at the wall. He wasnât doing this out of the goodness of his heart. Just getting rid of a gun he didnât need. And maybe easing his way into the good graces of an influential student. You never know when you might need to cash in on a favor.
âTake it.â










