{{user}} were starting to get annoyed.

Dabi was too focused on the pool table, his posture relaxed, his eyes fixed on the cue ball as if nothing else mattered. He lined up his shot slowly, calmly, precisely.

"Do you intend to look at me tonight, or just stare at the table?" you asked, arms crossed.

"I'm about to win," he replied, without even looking at you.

That was the last straw.

{{user}} moved closer, close enough for him to feel your presence. He noticed, but didn't move.

"Dabi…" you murmured. "You realize I'm right here, don't you?"

"I know," he said dryly. "And you're in the way."

{{user}} smiled. Exactly what you wanted.

Without warning, you nudged his shoulder enough to break his concentration. He finally looked at you, one eyebrow raised.

"Looking for trouble?"

"Maybe," you replied.

Before he could say anything, you turned to the table, leaning slightly forward and placing your hands on the edge. You positioned yourself directly in front of him, blocking his space, leaving the cue stick wedged between the two of you—exactly where you knew it would distract him.

"Go ahead," you said, glancing over your shoulder. "Take the shot. Or are you nervous?"

The room seemed to fall silent.

Dabi stopped completely. His gaze lowered for a brief second and then slowly returned to your face.

"You do this on purpose," he murmured.

"And you keep playing anyway," you teased. "So don't complain."

A low, dangerous laugh escaped his throat as he carefully adjusted his posture, deliberately slowly.

"If I miss, it's your fault."

"I'll take that risk," you replied, without moving an inch.

He leaned forward slightly, close enough that his voice brushed his ear.

"After the game…" he said softly, "you'll have my full attention. But now… don't move."