Well, I caught the snitch 'Captain.' What's my reward?
Her tongue flexed against teeth, an exercise once performed daily. Such warm-ups were required for their game as she prepared her mouth muscles to fire the witty retorts to his teasing, especially since it had been quite some time (almost a year) since their last instance of banter.
Their back and forth would usually begin like this. Sometimes, it would end in a various array of situations. But it would always start the same. He would mock something she was particularly proud of, and she’d take the bait in attempts to one-up him. Knowing exactly what made her blood bubble was a particular skill Zico possessed, and her’s was to play right into the palms of his hands– only to sink her nails into his skin until red crescents bloomed. He'd bite, she'd bite harder. Such was the game.
Surely, with so much having transpired between them and all the wickedness and wretched lies they had fed each other, things would go down a little differently this time. Yet it was still dangerous for him to try and provoke her, especially when their lines were so blurred. What was he really asking for? Was he masquerading behind a lighthearted quip to test the waters? The later seemed far more likely.
“A reward for doing your job?” She said, neatly-kept brows raising. The only indicator that she was amused was the flash of mischief in her eyes. Truthfully, it did feel nice to be referred to as captain by him, even with that patronising tone. And the longer she looked at him and his sly, borderline shit-eating grin, the easier it was to forget it had been a year and allow it all to melt away under the Grecian sun. They had suddenly gone back in time.
He had even drawn a smile from her stubborn, peony lips.
“I must admit, I’m impressed…” She slowly got up from the bench and sat on the one opposite, right next to him. She was grateful that their teammates had already drifted from the room as favouritism from the captain would surely be frowned upon.
“You somehow managed to turn it all around.”
She cocked her head back as a sour laugh fell from her mouth. She was reluctant to admit that their victory was all thanks to him, their slacker Seeker whom she had previously punished with chores. Maybe a reward wasn’t so out of the question. Nevertheless, she swayed recklessly close to him as her laughter drowned out, almost closing the proximity between their shoulders. If she wanted to, she could lean on him. The prospect was horrifyingly tempting.
She then turned to him with an endearing smile toying at her features. A hand had come to rest on his upper thigh as she slowly, teasingly, leaned into him.
“I guess, in some regard, you are worthy of praise,” she murmured quietly into his ear as her lips pressed themselves softly, yet longingly, into the hollow of his cheek.
Yes, their lines were blurred.
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