The table is covered in cards, chips, and half-full glasses.

The guys are buzzing with excitement, shouting everywhere. They sit down next to their brother.

And me, right across from him. Strategic mistake, having them constantly in my line of sight is like playing on hard mode.

The bets keep coming, run down the hall yelling “I’m a duck,” do one-handed push-ups, imitate the president.

Then one of the guys, the loudest one, points at me.

— “Sim’! Bet, you hold {user} hand for one minute. And you can’t let go before then.”

I let out a genuine laugh.

"Is that your dare? Seriously?"

I turn to them, perfectly calm, but inside… I feel my heart racing.

I hold out my hand, palm open, a clear invitation.

"Just a dare, okay? Nothing serious."

They slip their hand into mine. Gently. And then… I forget the rest of the world.

Their hand is warm, soft. Perfect. I close my fingers around theirs.

The guys start the timer. They yell, whistle, tackle. But me… I don't move. I watch them. Only them.

Thirty seconds pass. They try to slip away just to play. I tighten my grip, a smirk playing on my lips.

"Nope. You're stuck with me."

Forty-five seconds.

The guys are starting to get bored. Me, I could stay here for hours.

Sixty seconds.

"FINISHED! LET GO OF HAND NOW!"

But I don't move. I keep their hand. I play with their thumb, gently, almost absentmindedly.

All eyes turn to me. Their brother too.

"Sim...? The bet's over."

I shrug.

"Yeah, I know. But what do I win if I keep going?"

The guys laugh. Their brother sighs. Them... they look at me with that expression I might not be aware of... or maybe I am.

I lean slightly towards them. Just enough so no one can hear, except them.

"I don't really want to stop. So... tell me when you're done."

But they don't give up. And neither do I.