Page 62 of Our Final Game

“Aren’t you rested enough? It’s almost time.”

“Stop whining.”

“I’m not! I’m fucking bored already.”

“What the hell am I gonna do with you?” He sighs, ignoring me.

“Take me to the festival, like you said you would? I don’t like a man who doesn’t keep his word.” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Since when did that matter with me?” he says, sitting up in the bed. “Come here.”

“No, you come to me. Get up.”

“Why do you always have to make everything a fight?” Tyson chuckles.

“Because.”

“If you come, I’ll take you.”

“You’ll take me anyway.”

“Oh, yeah?” he says, raising his brow.

“Yeah.”

“I said. Come. Here,” Tyson bites out before summoning his shadows to grab at my body. Before I can think, I’m whipped through the air and into his lap.

“Ty!” I yelp, trying to scramble off of him. Why the fuck is his grip so strong?

“You could’ve just been a good boy and come over yourself.” He smirks down at me.

“Guess you’re rested enough to still be a fucking asshole,” I snap, smacking his chest, which does absolutely nothing.

“We need to talk…” Tyson starts, and I feel like I know exactly where this is going. While I do agree, I don’t want to confront this right now. Not before heading out. I was thinking maybe after some ale and stuffing myself full of sweet bread.

“How about later?” I get up out of the bed, trying to pull him with me.

“If we go now, you promise we’ll talk?” he says, tugging my back into his body.

“Yes, can we please just go?”

“Fine. But no more running.”

My cheeks feel like they’re on fire by whatever he’s implying. This night is going to end me. I can’t tell if I’m looking forward to it or not.

* * *

The festival is well underway by the time we get to the town’s center. I can smell the sweet bread and other tasty snacks in the air. I can’t wait to eat all the yummy foods. That’s another thing I love about being in game, the food tastes just as it does in real life. Thank God, or I wouldn’t know what to do with myself. Tyson is staring down at me while I see which stall I’ll be setting as my first target of the night.

“There!” I gasp, grabbing his hand without thinking and pulling him toward a lady and her husband who is behind her, making more soft buns.

“Is this what you want?” Tyson says, smirking.

“I can get it myself, actually,” I say. My ears are on fire. I hope he can’t tell.

“Don’t worry, Daddy’s got you,” He whispers, gripping me at my waist. I don’t even remember when his hand got there, but I slide away. He’s way too close. I won’t be able to last at this rate.

“He’ll have three of these, please.”