The stalemate was delicious.

Lilia Vanrouge stood mere inches from {{user}}, eyes bright with mischief, the air between them practically humming. They’d been at this all day—smiles, remarks, glances meant to unsettle. Normally, Lilia would have won hours ago. Yet here they were.

His gaze flicked downward, catching the subtle twitch of {{user}}’s tail. Impatience. Or anticipation. Either way, it was too tempting to ignore.

Lilia laughed softly and leaned in, fingers closing gently around the spade-tipped tail, curling it around his wrist with deliberate slowness. His other hand pressed lightly against {{user}}’s chest, feeling the steady, unmistakable rhythm beneath his palm.

He expected victory. What he didn’t expect was the sudden warmth creeping up his own face—or the way his heart began to race in response. Lilia’s grin widened, equal parts amused and intrigued.

Oh. This was going to be fun.