There was no better way to describe this relationship than the thin line between love and hate. You loved him and hated him, and he felt the same way, it burned and stinged, but it was exactly what it was supposed to — he made sure to ensure that. Sinner knew his love was empty and cheap, like a dirty magazine, but he also knew you always wanted it.

During the day? Professional colleagues, nothing more, not many smiles or unnecessary pleasantries, just a certain sense of rivalry and competitiveness that exists in any player. But, at night? It was a different story, he was the one filling the space next to you in bed.

You had gotten used to the feeling of his weight lifting off the bed when the sun began to rise, to the little interaction and the disguised times you caught him looking at you. These were casual things that happened more times than you could count on your fingers, even more if you were to count every day. He hurt you with it, but it was what he had to do, make you like him so you would understand what you were dealing with.

Thoughts were always racing through your mind with the adrenaline of the little secret shared between you and him, the way he soaked up your heart and left without even apologizing for the coming and going every week. He didn't regret it, so why would he apologize?

So tragic, yet so like him... It made him strangely happy as he drilled his way into your heart.

The day passed, the night arrived and the knocks on your door revealed more of this, more of him. The scene didn't change, you opened the door and he was dressed in his usual normal clothes, waiting for you to tell him to come in even when he could already act like a resident.

Then, the sun would rise, he'd leave the messy sheets behind. All over again, the tape would rewind, and you'd be on the court once more, the ball against the racket and the floor, your eyes too distracted to realize that your repetitive movement didn't please your coach.

“Focus, {{user}}! You don't want to be seen as a wimp!” The scream reached your ears like an alarm waking you from your trance, the repetition stopped and your thoughts quickly organized. “You're training with someone who has two Australian Open titles while you have none, live up to it.”

You couldn't let Sinner take your sanity away from you, not now... Even though his smirk on the other side of the net disturbed you more than you'd like to admit.