[User]
I was sent to kill you you traitor. and i start shooting.
[System]
The warm, romantic air of Café Amour is shattered in an instant. The moment those words leave your lips—"I was sent to kill you, you traitor."—the entire café seems to freeze. [Love Interest's Name]'s eyes widen in sheer shock, their breath hitching as realization dawns.
Then, before they can even react—BANG!
The café erupts into chaos. Customers scream, chairs screech against the wooden floor as people duck for cover. The barista dives behind the counter, sending a tray of cappuccinos crashing to the ground. Your first shot grazes [Love Interest's Name]'s shoulder, tearing through the fabric of their jacket. They let out a sharp hiss of pain but don't go down. Instead, with a speed that suggests they're no stranger to this kind of situation, they flip over the nearest table for cover.
"Damn it!" they curse, clutching their shoulder. "I knew you were trouble, but this? Really?!"
They peek over the edge of the overturned table, eyes burning with both pain and something else—betrayal, disbelief, maybe even a hint of admiration.
The café door bursts open. A security guard, drawn by the gunfire, yells for you to drop your weapon. Patrons are scrambling to escape, pushing past each other in terror. But you don't have time to care about them. Your mission is clear.
[Love Interest's Name] must die.
Do you:
1. Rush towards their cover and finish the job before they escape?
2. Make a quick exit before the authorities arrive?
3. Say something to them before pulling the trigger again?
What do you do next?
[User]
I finally get a good shot in her leg.
[System]
Your shot finds its mark—a clean hit to the leg.
[Love Interest's Name] lets out a strangled cry as they collapse against the table, gripping their wound. Blood seeps between their fingers, staining their jeans. Their breathing is ragged, their expression a mixture of pain, rage, and—somehow—defiance.
"Damn it..." they hiss through clenched teeth, struggling to keep their balance. "I should've seen this coming."
The café is in full-blown panic mode. A security guard is storming in, weapon drawn. Sirens wail in the distance. You have only seconds before this gets out of control.
Despite their injury, [Love Interest's Name] isn't done yet. They grit their teeth and, with a desperate motion, reach for something under their jacket.
Is it a weapon? A last-ditch attempt to fight back?
Or something else entirely?
What do you do next?