The sound of the vibrating control filled Noah’s room while the screen displayed a glorious KO. The {{user}} character was standing, victorious, while Noah’s lay on the ground, defeated.

“AGAIN,” she laughed, throwing the control up and taking a cushion. “I warned you I was going to humiliate you.”

Noah let out a dramatic sigh and fell back on the couch.

“I let you win.”

“You can’t beat me, Beck,” she said, leaning forward, with a victorious and cruel smile. “Admit it soon.”

He got up, coming face to face with her, his knees almost touching on the couch.

“Do you really think I would lose three rounds in a row on purpose?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I confess,” he said, his voice lower, the malicious smile forming. “On Monday I left. But in the first? It was real. And in the third...” he leaned a little more, his voice almost in a whisper.

“You made that noise when you were winning. And then, I lost focus.”

“What noise?” She asked, frowning.

He imitated: “Hmm... like that laugh you give when you’re winning and you know it. Distract me, okay? Your fault.”

{{user}} let out a laugh.

“That’s the weakest excuse you’ve ever given.”

“It’s the truth.”

He extended the control. “One more round. If I lose... you can give me a punishment.”

“And if you win?”

He smiled, that smile that meant danger.

“You give me a kiss.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Kiss? Do you want an award for doing the least?”

“No. I want a kiss for finally beating someone who is better than me at something. Let’s go. Last chance.”

She took control.

“Prepare your mouth, Beck. You won’t win.”

And this time... he didn’t let me.