Cilian's fingers adjusted Ren's aim, tilting the barrel just a fraction of an inch. The proximity was nauseating. Ren felt the leather collar around his neck feel tighter, a physical reminder of who truly held the trigger.
"Now," Cilian breathed. "Why don't you try it again? But with a little more focus."
Ren's tampered breathing seemed to be ringing in his ear. He couldn't concentrate properly, especially with Cilian's pressure behind him. He swallowed, steadying his breath, and then pulled the trigger.
The shot was a perfect bullseye, right through the 'heart' of the paper silhouette.
"See?" Cilian chuckled, his voice sounding dazed and delighted, but he didn't let go.
Instead, he rested his chin on Ren's shoulder, his eyes fixed on the mangled paper but sniffing in Ren's scent in the moment. His scent was frantic and erratic, but it did not smell any less nice than it did the last night.
