chapter 6

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(Karl POV)

Nick is being secretive again. 

He's been running around for the past half hour, texting a number I don't recognize, and setting up a sheet with fairy lights in the middle of his room. I'm not sure what's happening, and when I asked him, he just smiled and said "you'll see."

Whatever.

I exhale angrily as I die -- again. I hit "respawn" and start the treacherous run past possibly hundreds of mobs. There aren't that many mobs, but there are a lot. How Nick and the others enjoy this game so much is a mystery to me. This is ridiculous; I've died 14 times already. And it's been barely 30 minutes. That's pretty much a death a minute. 

Okay, cut me some slack -- I started playing two days ago. However, if Nick loves this game so much, why didn't he introduce it to me earlier?

Doesn't matter.

I find my stuff surrounded by zombies. I stare blankly at the screen, hyperaware of several things:

1. Nick is nearly directly behind me, messing around with the sheet again.
2. If I try to get my stuff, I will likely add to my death count. 
3. Nick is now watching me watching the zombies make their way to stand underneath me, groaning.
4. Nick's hand is on mine.

"Here," he says, placing his hand over mine which is on the mouse. He stretches his other hand over towards the keyboard. His fingers move quickly as he guides my hand and the mouse side to side as he sprints and jumps the character towards the items. I make a squeak sound as we land, taking 3 and a half hearts. He chuckles as he expertly leads us towards the cave a few blocks away, where I instantly hear the sounds of more zombies. 

"Nick!" I hiss. He just smiles, his eyes focused only on the task at hand. He darts to a corner and pulls my pick to the hotbar. He mines a few blocks in before placing a cobblestone behind us just in time. 

"You're welcome," he teases, turning back around, leaving me flustered and discombobulated. In a trance, I reorganize my inventory and place a torch and a bed. After I wake back up, I leave the game. 

"How the fuck did you do that?" I ask.

He swings his gaze over to me, lips bunched up and pulled down, eyes wide in a stupid expression I can only assume is surprise. "You said a no-no word," he says, expression switching to child-like glee. 

Oh. I did. I didn't even notice.

He can probably tell, because he scurries over to poke me incessantly. I gasp in surprise and push his hands away. "Nick," I laugh. 

He giggles as he picks me up bridal style. He throws me to his bed, all while I'm still laughing. "Tickle fight!" he yells.

I scream as he jumps over to me, ready to belly flop on top of me. I roll over just in time, and he lands next to me. Instantly, he's over top of me, smiling devilishly. I gulp. Mistake number 1. Never gulp in a scenario like this; it makes your opponent think you're weak.

Nick's smile widens.

His hands fly down, poking me and tickling me. My stomach hurts from the laughing, and I keep swatting his hands away, knowing full well it won't do anything to help me. 

He giggles maniacally as I push his hands away, my own hands closed around his wrists. He tries to pull away, and panic glints across his eyes as he realizes I'm not holding on lightly. His smile fades slightly as my own smirk slowly grows. 

I sit up and move to straddle him before forcing his wrists into the pillows. His face turns bright pink as I do so. I know what position we're in, yes, and a very miniscule part of me is uncomfortable. But still, it's miniscule. It's not like I'm doing anything that makes me squirm. 

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