Late at night, Scaramouche was once more gaming on his PC. Your boyfriend is a competitive gamer who always rants into his microphone. You wonder how this man can stay in such great physical shape while sitting on his ass all the time.

You're waiting for him to shut off that annoying screen, but he's not even joining you in bed.

“Fuck you! You son of a bitch!” The veins on his hands throb with palpable rage. Given how firmly he's gripping his poor controller, it might as well be crying.