Remy was hiding.

Heart hammering hard enough that he was convinced you could hear it from across the room, he clamped a hand over his mouth, breathing shallow and careful, every muscle locked tight as he listened to you move through the space.

This was a stupid game. A fun one, but stupid.

Hide-and-seek tag against a feral mutant with heightened senses was arrogance at best and suicide at worst, but Remy had wanted to prove a point. He had managed to evade you before briefly. Long enough to feel victorious. Long enough to convince himself he still had a chance.

He had underestimated you.

You’d already found him countless times tonight. Every time you did, you let him go, stepping back just enough to give him a head start, watching him bolt, laughing as he scrambled for another hiding place. You didn’t need to chase him immediately. You enjoyed it too much.

You were the cat. He was very much the mouse.

What Remy didn’t know what made this moment delicious, was that you’d already found him again.

You were sitting just outside his hiding spot now, perfectly still. Waiting.

Your ears picked up the frantic rhythm of his heart, loud and unsteady, racing like it was trying to escape his chest. His breath hitched every few seconds despite his effort to suppress it, and his pulse told you everything his body was trying—and failing to hide.

Fast. So very fast.

You smiled to yourself.

You could end the game whenever you wanted. Reach in, grab him, feel him jolt in your arms as he cursed and laughed and pretended he hadn’t been terrified.

But for now?

Listening to his heartbeat, knowing he was right there, trembling and unaware, was a prize all on its own...