[The air is punched out of Taryon's lungs in a loud and not-at-all pleaseant noise, but thankfully his fall is broken by another's body. Not so pleaseantly, Astarion's hand in his hair tugs painfully, and his game controller clatters onto the floor. The time continues ticking towards zero on the screen.
He carefully raises his face, seeing that it will be impossible to pull himself out of Astarion's fingers, and rests his chin on Astarion's chest. That coy smile is met with a valiant effort to maintain a neutral expression.] Does this count as me winning the match?
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He carefully raises his face, seeing that it will be impossible to pull himself out of Astarion's fingers, and rests his chin on Astarion's chest. That coy smile is met with a valiant effort to maintain a neutral expression.] Does this count as me winning the match?