HS: JohnVriska 2

That was it. That was the second time you had ever lost a shooter. He beat you by 5 whole kills. This was unprecedented. This was not how things are supposed to go and you will have none of that.

"Best ten out of thirty."

"Vriska, are you really that butthurt over a little loss?" John laughs wholeheartedly and claps a hand on your shoulder. You wish you could burn objects with just a glare.

"How are you this good... Like, how are YOU THIS. GOOD."

John laughs again, you are losing patience. "Seriously? I never really expected a girl to be this competitive at video games!"

You snap your gaze back to his face again and put your controller down. He doesn't seem to notice.

"I mean, really! Hahahahaha! You are probably one of those tournie types... the ones that take it really seriously... Wow, I don't know if I should be pleased to have someone like you living with me or embarrassed!"

You bunch your hands into fists. He still hasn't noticed through his continuous banter the anger that is building up within you. He will pay... Oh, how he will pay.

"Hahaha... Oh, wow. Okay, I think I got it all out of my system... Uhhhh, Vriska?"

He finally notices how close your face has gotten to his, and how angry you look, and also that you've grabbed the collar of his shirt in quite a threatening manner.

"Whoa,  now. There is no reason to be this pissed off! It's just a video game." He laughs again and you suppress the urge to... to... you don't know what, but it would be something! And it would hurt him in SOME way, you are certain. You push him away and turn back towards the TV, pouting which is not your style, but you can't seem to help it.

"Do you want to play another round? Seriously?"

You give him one curt nod and pick up your controller. You play another round and this time, you win but only by a little. Your head snaps in his direction as he slaps a hand to his forehead and groans, dramatically.

"AAAUGH... You got me, this time! You're really good at this game."

"You  let me win." It's not a question and to your satisfaction, he stops giving you that shit-eating smile.

"N-no... I didn't." He looks back at the TV, obviously nervous. He did let you win, the swine!

"You let me win! You did, didn't you, you dick!" You get on your knees and he scoots away from you, looking everywhere but where your eyes are on your face.

"I swear! You won because you're that good! I swear! Vriska, you're kinda... kinda scaring me..." You see his Adam's apple bob as he gulps nervously. Good. He should be nervous. He has no idea who he's messed with.

He makes a little yelp and tries to scurry away as you prepare yourself to pounce on him. He might be able to beat you in a video game, but the squirrely boy couldn't possibly beat you in brute strength.

You leap, he kicks at you and you latch onto one of his legs. They are stronger than you expected but no matter, it's not like he's already kicked you off or anything. And he's scared shitless meaning you basically have the upper hand.

"Wah! Vriska! Haha!" He has the audacity to laugh! He still isn't taking you seriously. You feel like a dog trying to gain her alpha title in the pack that is your small, two bedroom apartment. You crawl up his body and you notice that you have been chuckling darkly which has John shaking in his boots. Good. "Whoa, there..."

He puts his hands on your shoulders to try to keep you back but that won't help. You grab his hands and pry them off of you, easily as you expected and begin to wrestle with him for dominance. He yelps and laughs and struggles but this is no game. You are in for the kill and the kill means him at least crying and begging at your feet for forgiveness. But he hasn't given up yet and you're actually feeling a little on the weak side. Was this his plan all the time? To further embarrass and humiliate you? You will have neither of these things happen. You feel strength come back as your new determination is lit like a fire.

"John. Egbert," you hiss through clenched teeth. He laughs in response. "I will teach you. To never. Disrespect. Muh-" The hands that were firmly on his wrists slip from the sweat that has now coated both of you and you fall.

Your eyes are snapped shut and all you hear is heavy breathing and his shrill laughter. He is in stitches. He is in stitches and he is... holding onto you? You try to pull back but he won't let up. This is the mightiest of bear hugs, you are certain.

"Let go!!" He won't, he just keeps laughing. And now, he's slowly rocking you both back and forth. This is madness. "Ugh! You fucking creeper! Let me go, right now!" His laughter slows down and he just smiles up at you.

What.

"I will smack that smile right off your face."

"Haha! You won't!"

"Don't fucking try me, Egbert..."

"Oooh, feisty! Hahahaha!"

"I swear to God, if you don't let me go... I'll... I'll..."

"You'll what... Smack me? Your landlord? Haha!"

You have met your match. There is suddenly a small pile of feelings deep in your chest and it isn't stopping from getting taller. He hasn't let you go and you haven't really tried to get away. You aren't the touchy-feely type, and you never really cared if you were or not. This, though... This was making you reconsider. In the back of your mind, a small voice notes on the reason why people like the company of others and why they get so emotionally involved in relationships. It feels nice, but enough of that. Any more sweetness and your teeth will start to ache. You will end this now.

"No..." You put your hand on his face and push away with all your might, his head twisting uncomfortably enough that he gets the hint and lets go. He laughs again as you get up and fix your shirt that had been moved in all different directions during the struggle and smooth out your ruffled hair. You are going to walk away from this with at least most of your dignity intact. He chooses to stay on the floor and ogle up at you.

"No hard feelings, right? I was just joking!" He beams at you a blinding smile. You're sure the reason it's so bright is because the light reflects off of his teeth and not because it's so genuine and beautiful that it makes you want to look away because you are not worthy of such happiness.

You snort a response to that and strut victoriously to your room. But it's only exterior. As soon as you're alone in your room to plop down on your bed, face-first and to your much chagrin, your heart is all a twitter and your face is hot. You know this isn't from the exercise you just endured because there are all these feelings attached to them, that it's unmistakable. You nuzzle your face into your pillow to get the sensation of his arms off of your body and try to think about anything else but why that made you actually HAPPY.

You fail miserably. But this is the first time you can remember where failure doesn't make you want beat yourself up over it. You smile and kick your legs, trying to release this pent up--whatever it is-- out of you because you swear you are about to overflow!

And your heart grows three sizes, that day.