player [ 𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | 𝗮𝘂 ]

five

LUKE

Once I got home, I collapsed onto my bed, staring at the ceiling. The sun had set, but the excitement from my afternoon with Daphne still buzzed in my veins. I couldn't shake the warmth of her laughter and the way her eyes lit up when she joked about being bad at volleyball. It felt so effortless, so right. But beneath that joy lay a confusion that gnawed at me.

We had agreed to keep things light and to treat this game as just a bit of fun. But how could I keep pretending she was just some girl around my friends? Every time I tried to convince myself that I could view her that way, I was hit with a wave of reminders of who she really was to me: my best friend, my rock, the person who saw me for who I truly was—flaws and all.

Tonight had been a blast, but it also stirred something deeper inside me. I thought about how we had laughed and teased each other, the comfortable way we fell into our rhythms. But when she'd lay down on the sand, her smile bright and carefree, I had felt the urge to pull her closer, to kiss her. The thought sent a thrill through me, but also a wave of panic. What if that crossed a line? What if I ruined everything we had built?

I groaned, running my hands through my hair. I was trying so hard to keep my feelings in check, to follow the rules of our game. But every moment we spent together felt like it was complicating things further. I wanted to keep this lighthearted, but every laugh, every touch seemed to tether me closer to her in a way I hadn't anticipated.

Daphne was one of the few people who never judged me. In a world full of expectations and assumptions, she saw through the facade. She didn't care about the player image I had cultivated; she valued the real me. And that was terrifying. What if I let her in too much? What if she saw the cracks beneath my carefully constructed surface?

I thought back to her saying she needed to make it up to her dad. I could almost hear the playful tone in her voice as she joked about my popcorn-hogging habits. I loved that she had chosen to spend time with me, but I also felt the weight of her family ties. I never wanted to be the reason she felt guilty or torn. Yet here I was, wanting her more than I should, wanting to blur those lines we had drawn so carefully.

"Just a game," I muttered to myself, but the phrase felt hollow. It was a challenge, sure, but I wasn't sure how long I could keep playing without acknowledging the feelings brewing inside me.

What if I was in over my head? Each time I thought about Daphne, it was harder to separate her from my own desires. She was not just a conquest; she was my friend, my confidante. I had never wanted to reduce her to a casual fling, yet here I was, wishing for more—more of her laughter, more of her warmth, more of those fleeting touches that left me craving something deeper.

I sighed, closing my eyes as the memories flooded back: the way her hair caught the light of the sunset, the way she smiled at me as if I were the only person in the world. It was all too much. I wanted to lean in, to close that gap between us, but fear held me back. What if I admitted I wanted to kiss her? What if I confessed that this game was turning into something I couldn't control?

Sitting up, I felt a wave of determination wash over me. I needed to talk to her. I needed to set things straight before it spiraled out of control. I grabbed my phone and hesitated for a moment, then typed out a message.

Hey, Daphne. We need to talk. Can you meet up tomorrow?

I hit send and stared at the screen, my heart racing. I didn't know how she would react, but I knew this conversation was necessary. I needed to figure out what we were doing before the game turned into something neither of us could handle.

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