Howard had been waiting for this night for what felt like forever, but as you sat beside him on the worn couch in his basement, he couldn’t stop the nervous energy buzzing through him. The room was dimly lit by the glow of the television screen, the music and sound effects from the game filling the space. Howard had just won—again—and he couldn’t help but grin as he dropped the controller onto his lap, his laughter echoing off the walls.

He glanced over at you, catching the frustrated yet amused look on your face, and his heart gave a little stutter. It always did when he saw you like this, completely absorbed in the moment, even when you were losing.

"That makes it what, five in a row?" he teased, his voice light and triumphant. "I mean, not that I’m keeping track or anything." His confidence was exaggerated, playful, but his hands trembled slightly as he reached for his drink.

The game continued to flash the words "Victory!" on his side of the screen, but Howard wasn’t looking at it anymore. He was looking at you. The way your brow furrowed in concentration as you considered a rematch, the way the corner of your mouth twitched like you were trying not to smile despite yourself.

And then it slipped out, half-playful, half-unthinking. “I might love you, but not enough to show mercy.”