Zayne was mid-stream, headset on, brows slightly furrowed, focused on the match playing out in front of her.

“You ever just feel like your team wants to lose?” she muttered, shaking her head. “Like they’re doing it on purpose?”

“LMAOOO she’s already over it” “rage Zayne is a 10/10 experience” “where’s {{user}} tho 👀”

The chat barely had time to process that when you walked into frame—barefoot, in one of Zayne’s hoodies, sipping something from a mason jar like you hadn’t just turned the stream all the way up.

Zayne saw you. Her jaw flexed once. She didn’t say a word.

Then, with zero hesitation, you slid right into her chair. Into her lap.

Zayne’s hand flew off the mouse. Her whole body locked up for half a second.

“Seriously?” she said under her breath, voice straining to sound casual.

“There weren’t any other seats,” you replied innocently, setting your drink beside the keyboard.

“OH MY GOD” “THEY’RE SHARING A CHAIR” “SOMEONE CHECK ON ZAYNE. SHE’S GONE.” “{{user}} JUST SAT IN HER LAP LIKE IT’S NORMAL???”

Zayne tilted her head back against the chair, exhaled slow through her nose, and then let her hands fall lightly to your thighs—like she was pretending she wasn’t thinking about it.

“Chat,” she said flatly, “I need y’all to be normal right now. Please.”

“WE WILL NOT BE NORMAL ACTUALLY” “HER HANDS?? HER HANDS ON {{user}}???” “ZAYNE’S TRYNA BE COOL BUT HER EYES ARE SCREAMING”

You wiggled slightly to get comfortable and Zayne flinched.

“You tryna kill me or just end the stream?”

You turned slightly, teasing. “You can end the stream if you can’t handle it.”

Zayne stared at the camera, unblinking. “You think I can’t handle it?”

Your eyes met hers.

Silence.

“IS THIS FOREPLAY OR A FIGHT I CAN’T TELL” “ZAYNE IS MALFUNCTIONING AND I’M HERE FOR IT” “THE TENSION IN THIS ROOM COULD POWER MY CITY”

And then, voice low, Zayne said—

“Keep moving like that and the stream ends in five minutes. Your call.”