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Summary
Phainon couldn't decide whether to curse or to swoon. He typed quickly.
(P) Are you asking for my address or not?
(👍)A fucking thumbs-up reaction. He had half a mind to shatter his phone on the ground.
___/==\___
They were no longer rookies, but they could both admit that it felt easier back then. More time to sneak around, less pressure on Mydei's shoulders in the face of carrying a small country's expectations on his back.
Not that Phainon felt he had it much easier. With fear of the public eye and desire for the other player warring it out inside of him, the question as to whether he should develop some self respect or take every opportunity he could get with him was getting tougher.
Awful, really, for someone so eager to please.
(A Heated Rivalry au)