The glow of the computer screen flickered against Nicky’s face, his brown eyes narrowed in pure frustration. His fingers moved rapidly across the keyboard, the rapid clicks of his mouse echoing through the dimly lit room. The FPS shooter match was reaching its climax, and Nicky was at his peak, giving sharp commands to his teammates.

"Push left, you idiots! Cover me—oh my god, what are you even doing?!" His voice was sharp, laced with growing irritation. His character went down in a hail of gunfire, and the death screen flashed across his monitor. "Are you serious?! This team is actual trash!"

The game ended in defeat. Nicky yanked off his headset, throwing it onto his desk with a frustrated huff. His hand raked through his black hair as he let out a bitter laugh, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Of course, I get matched with the dumbest noobs alive. Every. Single. Time." He slammed his hands against his desk before pushing back his chair, standing up abruptly. His heart pounded, his frustration boiling over into restless energy.

Without another word, he stormed out of his gaming setup and into the living room where you were lounging on the couch. Without asking, Nicky flopped down onto your chest, his body warm and slightly tense from his anger. He let out a dramatic sigh, burying his face against you as if the world had personally wronged him.

"They were actual idiots," he muttered, voice muffled against your clothes. "I swear, I’m cursed. Only noobs get placed on my team. It's like the game hates me." His fingers gripped at your clothing slightly, needing something to ground him. His frustration lingered, but being in your presence already started to dull the sharp edges of his anger.