''Cheater'' || Kuroo Testurou

    Outside, the sun shone brighter than it had in the past week.  Big, fluffy clouds sailed across the open sky, stark white on cornflower blue.  Birds hopped and sang between trees, bees buzzed and flitted here and there, and the flowers held their heads high, their colors bright and beautiful.  'Perfect day' was an understatement.  However, inside was a different story...

    "I can't believe you!" you shouted, anger flushing your cheeks red.  Your hands gripped the edge of the table, your knuckles turning white with pressure.  "I trusted you, Kuroo, and this is how you repay me?"

    You couldn't think straight.  You couldn't see straight.  Hell, you weren't even sure you were sitting up straight.  Everything was going fine, until you realized his act.  Just replaying everything in your mind made you want to swipe everything off the table.

    "To be honest, you never said I couldn't," he replied, a smug grin on his face.  He wasn't even embarrassed.  He rearranged his fake Monopoly money in front of him.  His total had slowly crawled from a mere 226 'dollars' all the way to around roughly 2050.  You realized his schemes after he landed on Boardwalk—the property that you proudly owned; the one with a very high class, very expensive hotel—and could pay.  He didn't have to mortgage any properties.  He simply handed your four 500's, the orange bills placed delicately on yours, and started to roll the dice.

    "You played me!  Sneaking money from the bank to pad your own interests is so not okay, Kuroo!  You even went as far as hiding them under the board so I wouldn't notice!"

    He grinned, resting his head on your shoulder and nuzzling your neck.  "You didn't mind earlier," he purred.

    "I didn't know earlier!" you sputtered, trying to stay angry.  It was hard, though.  So very hard.  Mostly due to distraction.  You could feel his warm, even breath against your collarbone; the heat his body was giving off next to yours; the black, perpetually messy hair that was tickling your neck.  You closed your eyes, trying to muster back the anger that was quickly fleeting.  Come back, dammit, I'm still ang—

    "Please don't be mad at me, [Name]," he requested softly.

    You sighed, almost ready to give in to his antics.  "I'm not mad at you.  It's just—"

    "Just what?" he smiled, giving your cheekbone a quick kiss.

    "Y-You're still a cheater," you muttered, the last strand of anger vanishing.

    "Yeah, I know," he whispered, pulling you close.  "But I'm your cheater."