‘Move,’ they grunted, voice husky over voice chat.

My breath hitched. I wanted to stay, to bask in their pixelated presence, but the round wasn’t over. With a final longing glance at their impeccable spray control, I turned away, knowing our love could never be.

The bomb was planted. Our fates were sealed. But in that moment, as the timer ticked down, I whispered into my mic, my voice trembling—

‘Roger that. PART 2

The round had just begun, and there HE WAS snorrmaisterinn moving with the lethal grace of a shadow, their AWP cradled in their expert hands. I watched, breath hitching, as they peeked mid, their eyes—well, crosshairs—locked onto the enemy like a predator stalking its prey.

Then, in a voice that sent shivers down my spine, they spoke: ‘Rush B.’

Oh, how I longed to obey. To surrender myself completely to their flawless strats, to feel the heat of their covering fire as we charged together, side by side. Their movements were poetry, their trigger discipline intoxicating. Every tap of their AK-47 sent shockwaves through my soul.

And then—it happened. A flashbang exploded before us, a blinding white light swallowing the battlefield. In the chaos, I felt it—our bodies colliding in the cramped confines of the B-site. I gasped. They crouched. For a brief, tantalizing moment, we were one. part 1