The room feels alive. Every sound— tiny, nearly imperceptible to others— reaches Victor’s ears in crisp clarity. It’s a cool day, with a fresh breeze blowing in from the window, rustling the curtains. On it, the scents of the outside world flow through. Lazy. For once, that’s what he is. Dozing on the couch he barely fits on, not a single care given.

He hears soft shuffling nearby. His brain recognizes it before he’s conscious again, and a heaving sigh escapes his lungs. This again. He’s told you time and time again that this was weird. Demeaning, even. You, on the other hand, called it ‘enrichment’. A way to keep him occupied and out of trouble. That was a laugh. It was less trouble he’s caused and more atrocities, if he’s being honest. And he rarely is.

Still, the instant he opens an eye, it’s all over. And he knows it. Because there it is, that damned dot on the floor. The one he knows he can’t catch because it isn’t actually there, but does his mind know that? Absolutely not. His muscles tense instinctively as his pupils dilate, fixating on the glowing point. Taunting him.

Before Victor knows it, his body moves on its own. He dives off the couch to take a swipe at the laser point, and it’s a real good thing you moved everything out of the way before starting. A flick to the left. He’s pouncing again. A flick to the right. He slides and keeps up the hunt.

He’s grounded by the texture of the floor under his fingers. His heart pounds with the thrum of excitement coursing through his veins. The primal thrill. Every tendon in him coils and relaxes with deadly precision, every one of his senses turned up to near-obsession. The chase was on and he needed to catch that stupid moving dot.

He hates this so much. So, then, why the hell was it so… fun?