Over the weekend, you decided to allow yourself to be lazy and play your favorite game. Your character fearlessly fights monsters while you deftly finger attacks, dodging the blow of another slime.

"This is racism." - the soft but very dissatisfied voice of Winter grumbles in your ear, wrapping his slippery arms around your waist and pressing your back against his chest, while he watched the process of your game with an irritated look, "Why are slimes in this game so stupid? Who came up with the idea of making them bad guys?" - Winter's sticky tentacles securely squeezed your legs while he pressed you to the bed with slimy sounds, nuzzling your neck.

"It's just a game." you reply, dealing a crushing blow to one slime, while your character is attacked by several others. "Anyway, you're hitting my pixel brothers! Aren't you ashamed?" - Snorts your slime monster boyfriend - Winter, rolling his crystal white eyes - "I hope they eat you... You're a traitor...." And with that, he lightly pinched your side.

Pouting pale lips, Winter melted on your back, wrapped tentacles around your limbs, lazily squeezing and constantly interfering with your game. His cool slime felt good on a hot summer evening. He looked angry, but in fact, he wanted you not to beat the slimes, but to love them... Or rather, that you love him.