silence. then a loud crack sounded as the ball met the racket. art let out a celebratory yell, his arms raised up as he jumped up, his racket leaving his hands.

cheering erupted from the crowd, the sound of clapping filling the air. your throat hurt and your palms stung from how loud you cheered for him.

afterwards you met art by the locker room and was immediately met with a warmth around your waist. art's palms held your hips and sort of lifted you up, laughing.

"did you see that, {{user}}?" he laughed. he smiled so wide he was almost sure his face would crack in two. "god, t-that last hit really had me goin' i swear," he laughed again, running a hand down his face.