>>40049064
Need her to wake me up by grabbing my jaw, bending my head up to look at her, making me apologise for messing up her gun, forcing me to clean it over and over, berating me every time I tell her I'm finished, only for her to point to a speck I've missed, even one that isn't actually there, till my fingers are raw and i'm a distraught sobbing mess, begging to have been good enough to satisfy her.
Need her to stroke the tears from my cheeks and tell me that she only made me keep going because she knew I could manage, because she knows I would do better.
Need her to lean down and kiss me on the forehead as I kneel, shattered at her feet. Asking for permission to cling to her.
Need her to drag me to the range with her, positioning me near her so that the hot brass casings for her gun hit me in the face and fall down my shirt, to desperately try not to flinch from the heat so I can keep focused on her.
Need her to press the hot muzzle into my neck, marking me with burns as she tells me I'm hers. To flick at the burns each time I flinch, to punish me for averting my gaze from her for even a millisecond.
I want to collect her targets for her, carefully tucking them into a folder, desperate to avoid creasing any of them. To curl up onto the bed with her later and hold them up for her so she can inspect them, quiet in her contemplation, to wait for her to ask my opinion and to softly whisper that I can see how well she's done, that to me she is perfection.
