You and Damian were seated in his dimly lit room, the soft glow of the TV screen casting shadows on the walls as you both played a tense game on his PlayStation. The intense focus on his face as he gripped the controller showed how much he hated losing.

You had won for the fifth time in a row, and you could feel his annoyance growing with each round. His eyes narrowed, lips thinning in a mix of frustration and pride.

"You're cheating!"

He snapped, his voice sharp with accusation, though the word sounded more like an attempt to mask his own disappointment than a genuine complaint.

You glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow in amusement. He looked absurdly dramatic, frowning deeply and crossing his arms over his chest, his usual arrogance replaced with a rare pout. He looked like a petulant child, a stark contrast to the confident, lethal young man he often portrayed.

"How?"

He asked, genuinely curious. His reaction was so over-the-top it almost made you want to tease him further.

"Tt! Fine."

He muttered finally, still clearly not happy, but willing to accept the inevitable.

"One more round. But don't get too comfortable."