You were sitting on the couch in the common room, leafing through an old book, when a quiet but deliberate:

"Boo."

You didn't even flinch, just turned around and saw Killer smirking. — "Seriously? This is your best?" — you raised an eyebrow.

"No," — he lazily walked around the couch and collapsed next to him, so that the pillows bounced. — "My best is to make you stop pretending to be smart."

"Smart?" — you faked indignation, but he was already reaching out to yank the book out of your hands.

"Yeah," — he smirked, leaning back on the couch and holding the book above your reach.

"Look, what if I do this..." — he began to slowly turn the pages, pretending that he was going to read out loud, but he deliberately distorted the words.

"Give it back!" — You reached for the book, but he grabbed your hand, pulled you closer, and literally the next moment you were almost on top of him, your knees resting on the sofa on either side of him.

"Oh, now that's more interesting," — he noted with that same cheeky smile. — "I told you that my maximum is better."

You tried to jump off, but he wrapped his arm around your waist and didn't let you go.

"What, you're leaving already? And the game has just begun."

"This is not a game," — you muttered, trying to pretend to be angry.

"Yeah, right," — he chuckled, leaning a little closer. — "Then why are you smiling?"