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We fall into our usual rhythm, picking off targets with practiced precision. But as the hours wear on, my thoughts drift once again toward Dylan's little sister. I wonder what she's doing right now—probably laughing with friends or curled up with a book, unaware of the twisted desire that tugs at my heart.
"Yo, Blaze," Dylan says, snapping me out of my reverie. "Wanna call it a night? I'm beat."
"Sure, man," I agree, feigning exhaustion. The truth is, I could play for hours more, but I need some time alone with my thoughts—and with Nova's digital presence.
"Good game," he tells me before signing off.
"Good game," I echo, my fingers already twitching toward the bookmarked page that will transport me into her world.
As I scroll through her photos, devouring each new detail like a starving man, I feel a sick thrill in the pit of my stomach. She's so close, yet so far away, and the knowledge that I shouldn't be doing this only makes the experience more intoxicating.
"Fuck," I whisper, leaning back in my chair as my eyes linger on one particularly alluring shot of her in a bikini. It's torture, plain and simple, but it's a pain I've grown addicted to.
"Get a grip, Blaze," I chastise myself, forcing my hand away from the mouse. "You can't keep doing this."
But even as the words leave my lips, I know it's a lie. I'll never escape the gravitational pull of Nova Sinclair, and as long as her brother remains my best friend, she'll always be just out of reach—an unattainable beacon in the dark, beckoning me toward my own destruction.
* * *
The sound of gunfire echoes through my headphones as I duck behind cover, my heart pounding in my chest. It's getting worse. I've become consumed by the thought of Nova. I'm playing games with Dylan—as usual—but tonight, it seems like nothing can distract me from the seductive pull of Nova's memory.
"Blaze, you good?" Dylan's voice comes through the headset, snapping me back to the present.
"Yeah, just...thinking," I mutter, forcing myself to refocus on the game.
"About what?" he asks, his tone light and teasing.
"Nothing important," I lie, not wanting to betray my hidden obsession.
As we continue playing, my thoughts drift back to the first time I heard Nova's voice. It was a night just like this one, and she had been drinking at her brother's house. The sound of her laughter had trickled through the headset, sweet and intoxicating, making me feel like I'd caught a glimpse of something forbidden.
"Hey, who's that?" I asked Dylan at the time, unable to hide my curiosity.
"Nova, my sister," he replied, chuckling. "She's tipsy and wanted to say hi."
"Hi Blaze!" Her voice slurred slightly but remained vibrant and full of life. "Dylan's told me so much about you."
"Hey, Nova," I responded, desperately trying to keep my voice casual. "Nice to finally meet you."
"Likewise! You're kinda famous around here," she teased, and I could hear the smile in her voice. "I've seen you dominate these games, and it's pretty damn impressive."
"Thanks," I said, blushing despite myself. "You should join us sometime."
"Maybe I will," she purred, and then, without warning, she added, "You know, Blaze, if you keep playing like this, I might just have to suck your cock."
My heart skipped a beat, and my breath caught in my throat. For a moment, the world seemed to stand still, and all I could hear was the pounding of my pulse in my ears.
"Nova!" Dylan shouted, his voice a mixture of shock and laughter. "What the fuck?"
"Oops," she giggled, her tone unapologetic. "Guess I had one too many shots."
"Sorry about that, man," Dylan said, sounding embarrassed. "She gets a bit... wild when she's drunk."
I still couldn't speak, though, my heart beating out of my chest.
"Blaze, you good, man?" Dylan asked after my silence. "What are you doing?"
"Putting on my shoes," I joked. I couldn't resist the urge to fuck with Dylan.
