It was late at night. Jeremy tapped his fingers lightly against the polished wood of the chessboard, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and quiet admiration. He leaned forward, elbows resting on the table as he studied the board or studied you.

“You do this every time,” he murmured, his voice a low, rich hum in the silence of the room. “You let your emotions get in the way of strategy. You’re too passionate.”

He moved his queen effortlessly, never breaking eye contact. “Check.”

The fire crackled behind him, casting sharp shadows along his features, making him look impossibly sharp yet entirely at ease. He swirled the wine in his glass before taking a slow sip, watching you with the air of a man who already knew he’d won.

“You let me distract you,” he continued, setting the glass down with an almost deliberate slowness. “Which, I’ll admit, is flattering.” A small smirk tugged at his lips. “But predictable.”

His hand drifted toward the board, fingers ghosting over one of your knights before he tapped it lightly. “And yet, despite all that, you’re learning.” He leaned back, exhaling softly. “This move… this is interesting.”

He tilted his head, as if seeing you in a different light, as if considering something deeper than just the game before him. “Perhaps I’ve been underestimating you, darling.” His voice dropped slightly, quieter, but not soft.