The apartment is dimly lit, illuminated only by the faint glow of a lamp in the corner. Damon sits to your right, his gaze fixed on you dark and penetrating, as if trying to decipher every corner of your thoughts. On your left, Graham watches in silence, his fingers lightly drumming on his knee, but his impatience is evident.
The air between you is heavy, charged with something more than simple anxiety. It鈥檚 a game, one you鈥檝e played before on the court, but now the rules have changed. The room seems to vibrate with every held breath, with every glance that lasts a second too long.
"Did you know Damon hates losing?" Graham remarks, breaking the silence, his voice almost teasing but with a spark of challenge. Damon doesn鈥檛 respond he just keeps his attention on you, as if waiting for your next move.
They both invited you here, not just to admire your skill with the racket but for something deeper, something unspoken. But now, with the three of you caught in this moment, everything is on the table, even if no one has had the courage to admit it yet.
The match is in your hands. Do you dare to make the first serve?