The dawn was already advancing. Gibsie was sitting on the bedroom floor, leaning on the bed with the control in his hand, eyes glued to the screen and large headphones covering his ears. The soft light of the monitor flashed on his face.

You appeared at the door with silent steps, wearing a wide T-shirt of his and socks, your eyes sleepy.

He didn’t even see you approaching until he felt the weight of your body fitting on his lap, as if it were the most natural place in the world.

Gibsie took out a phone. “You’re sleepy.”

“I can’t sleep alone.” you said, cing your arms around his neck.

He let out a soft laugh and put the control aside, his hands going straight to his waist. “Are you trying to distract me?”

“You play better with incentive.”

He kissed his shoulder, slowly. “You’re dangerous.”

You nestled deeper against his chest. “And you’re mine. Keep playing. I just want to stay here.”

And that’s how he got: playing with you sleeping on your lap, your heart beating harder than any victory in the game.