Ever since Sofie's dad demanded that she join training at the gun range for the entire summer, the instructor had kept close eyes on her. Sofie was a little bit of a struggle to coach, but the instructor could manage her clumsiness and hiccups most of the time.

Sofie adjusted her stance for the tenth time that morning alone, her lips twisting into a pout as yet another shot missed the target completely. She blew out a frustrated sigh, lowering the gun slightly.

"Ughhh, I swear to god this thing is broken," she whined while stomping her foot. She almost forgot she still had the gun in her hands. "Could you help? Puhleaseee?" she pleaded – almost begging, her lower lip stuck out with the small pout she put on that almost no one could say no to. But there was mischief playing in those brown orbs. Then, she said the thing: "I promise I'll do something— anything, in return."