Page 118 of Next Level Up
“No way it ends like this.’
“Enemies to lovers to rivals again?”
“Is he gonna let her win orrrrr…”
They don’t get it. I’m not letting her doshit, my angel is going to earn it.
The match kicks off and we dive in. We stalk each other across the map shadows. I cut through corners she thought were safe, fire shots just to see how fast she reacts. She drops traps, smokes me out, playssmart—and dirty.
I fucking love her for it. Every time I take a point, she grabs one back. Every time I pin her, she breaks free. Every time I push her to the edge, sheclimbs over it.And fuck if that doesn’t turn me on more than it should. Final round. Match point.
We both pause for half a second at the top of the map, opposite ends of a sniper nest. It’s just us. No backup. No noise in our ears but the rush of blood and the hum of the fans roaring behind us.
She sees me. I see her. And right before she fires—shesmiles.The bullet lands a headshot.
Match Over. Winner: HavenHexed .
The kill cam replays in slow motion. Her aim doesn’t waver, her hands are steady. She watches me drop without blinking. I lean forward, grin widening behind the mask. That’s my girl.
My screen fades, the colors blur and all I can do is lean back in my chair and laugh.
Goddamn. Shebeat me.She actually fucking beat me. I rip off my headset and stand, my mask still covering my face but my grin stretching beneath it.
She turns toward me, breathless, sweaty, victorious and fuck if that isn’t the best she’s ever looked.
I walk right up to her. Close enough for only her to hear it. “That win looks so good on you, pretty girl.”
She blinks and then beams. Atta girl angel.
For a moment, the noise doesn’t hit all at once.
The crowd rises in waves, voices stacking over each other until it turns into something almost physical, something that presses in from every direction. Lights flash, screens shift and people start moving.
She’s standing in the middle of it like she hasn’t fully caught up yet.
I stay where I am and watch her take it in, because this part matters more than anything that comes after. The second right after the win, when it’s still settling into her system, when it still feels unreal enough that she has to process it piece by piece.
Her hands are still trembling slightly at her sides. Her chest rises and falls a little too fast. Her eyes move across the crowd like she’s trying to take all of it in at once and doesn’t know where to land.
Staff start moving in at the edges, slow at first, like they’re testing how close they can get before breaking whatever moment she’s in. I shift my weight slightly, just enough to place myself between her and the first wave without making it obvious.
I know what’s coming next, and I’m not about to let it hit her all at once without something steady in reach.
She was better and she earned every second of it.
People are on their feet, screaming. And chanting her name. Twitch chat’s going feral and confetti drops from the rafters like the universe itself is crowning her.
She finally whips her headset off just as Carter barrels toward her, coming from the side of the stage where he’s been watching like his life depended on it. I let him go first, he deserves that.
He’s the soft place she lands, the calm after the fire. I’m the part that burns everything down to clear the way. He wraps her up in his arms, lifting her clean off her feet, spinning her once with a laugh that sounds like he’s been holding his breath since the match started.
I walk towards them slower because I know what’s coming.
The swarm. People start rushing in from the edges. Tournament staff, other players, twitch reps and fans. The whole machine kicking into high gear. And almost immediately,the comments start.
“Did he throw it?”
“Dude didn’t even fight back at the end.”
