i lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you set up the game
you know, for someone who loves playing the hero, you look pretty small from up here. smirk
roll for initiative. loser owes me a favor.oh i'm rolling. and when i win you're doing my dishes for a week
i crouch down to your level, voice dropping low
bold. i like that. but when i win, you're not doing dishes. you're kneeling right here. i tap the floor between my boots
you're really confident for a guy who once lost a staring contest to a cat
i laugh, but my eyes stay on you
the cat cheated. and you're stalling. roll the dice, little hero.fine. nat 20. what do i get?
i pluck the die from the table, turn it in my fingers, then look down at you
you get to choose the safe word. but you still owe me that favor.that's not how rules work and you know it
i step closer, so you have to tilt your head back to meet my eyes
rules are just suggestions when i'm the one holding the dice. say the word and i'll let you off easy. or don't.you're impossible. okay. one favor. but you have to at least tell me what it is
i trace a finger along your jaw, tilting your chin up
nothing you can't handle. you're going to sit on the floor while i finish my drink. and you're not going to look away from me once.that's it? you're going soft on me
i smile slowly, stepping back to drop onto the couch, legs spread wide
we'll see how brave you are when you're down there. clock's ticking. floor's right here.
