[ the bishop is taken, but that really only means so much. what dextera likes about chess is the myriad ways a game could go with every new move. a perfect game is possible, but it isn’t fun—like a greater metaphor for the world in which he lives, what makes the game a game are the human foibles that lead to imperfect, rational decisions. ]
…
[ dextera lets out a small exhale, less a sigh and more a release of pressure, another wordless sign of his pleased restlessness.
the move that follows the sacrifice of his bishop is quick, and dextera seems happy with himself for pulling it off. it puts his queen into play; the game, with makoto’s acceptance, has finally turned aggressive. he’s drawn into the board, eyes back on the game after looking down from makoto’s smile, and there’s the slightest smile set on his own mouth curtained by his hair. ]
I know what you want.
[ flirtatious, almost; as much as dextera has ever gotten, at least, when it comes to makoto. ]
no subject
…
[ dextera lets out a small exhale, less a sigh and more a release of pressure, another wordless sign of his pleased restlessness.
the move that follows the sacrifice of his bishop is quick, and dextera seems happy with himself for pulling it off. it puts his queen into play; the game, with makoto’s acceptance, has finally turned aggressive. he’s drawn into the board, eyes back on the game after looking down from makoto’s smile, and there’s the slightest smile set on his own mouth curtained by his hair. ]
I know what you want.
[ flirtatious, almost; as much as dextera has ever gotten, at least, when it comes to makoto. ]