Mind Blind Saucy Side: Game On

“Nooooo!” Sally’s cry rings out like a death knell as the screen of her Switch turns black. She stares at you, the flickering light of the fireplace revealing pure anguish in her hazel eyes.

“Please, please, please tell me that the power will back on soon,” she begs.

You glance down at your phone which, like Sally’s dearly departed game console, has already gone into low power mode in preparation of its imminent shut down. “According to the Mount Thistledew website, the generator should be fixed in . . .” You wince. “Another four hours.”

Sally groans, putting her Switch down on the desk as she flops backwards onto the King-size bed beside you. “I was this close to Akio’s Super Happy Ending,” she complains. “Do you know how hard it is to get that asshole’s approval up without a guide?”

You do your best not to chuckle at the sincere anguish in her voice: Otome games, for Sally, are not a laughing matter. “Why not use a guide, then?”

Your girlfriend rolls over onto her side so that she can stare directly into your face (this is A Very Serious Topic, after all). “Eros Obstacle only released yesterday ago in English. So far, no one’s been able to crack what makes Akio tick. I was this close before the battery died.” She scowls ominously at the emergency lighting above the door of your rental ski lodge, then sighs. “I’m sorry. You planned a trip for us, and I’ve spent most of it chasing after another person.”

“I’ll try not to feel too threatened over a virtual boy,” you tease. You wrap your arm around her shoulders, and she snuggles comfortably against your side. “It’s fine that you want to play your new game. Neither of us expected to get snowed in without electricity.” The laugh you’ve been containing escapes. “Besides, you did call him an asshole. Sounds like I’m the better catch.”

“Akio is an asshole!” Sally explodes, not bothering to confirm your superiority. “There’s absolutely no rhyme or reason to earning his affection! Make him a bento, and he disapproves!  Offer to share your umbrella, and he disapproves! How do I make this boy love me?”

“I love you,” you dutifully inform her, only to have her dismiss your words with a wave of your hand.

For the next fifteen minutes, you patiently listen as Sally vents her frustrations over the pursuit of the Crown Prince of Tuhawtia, who, in addition to being royalty, is also the valedictorian of his high school despite being an immortal vampire (which begs the question of just how many times he’s repeated eleventh grade). You listen, because it’s not like there’s anything more interesting to do with the power out. Last time you attempted to escape the rented cottage, you opened the door to find the snow already piled up waist-high. Besides, Sally is adorable in her passion, all flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes and crinkling nose that make you long to kiss each and every freckle sprinkled across its bridge.

As Sally’s rant about sloppy translation and unrealistic relationship metrics slows to an exasperated halt, you give into the impulse. Your lips brush across her cheekbones, her skin heating beneath the contact as she lets out a surprised squeal and wiggles away.

“I take it back,” you tease, reaching for her once more. “I’m definitely jealous of how much thought you’re devoting to Pixel Prince.”

“His name is Akio,” Sally attempts to correct, before your lips press over hers and prevent the name of her current digital conquest from escaping.

With a small sigh, she relaxes into your arms. Firelight casts the room in a warm red glow, and Sally’s curls spill across the pillow like molten copper as you roll so that your body is atop of hers. Her arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you closer until you’re equally her captive as she is yours.

“What was his name again?” you whisper teasingly. Your teeth gently tug at her earlobe, punctuating the end of your question.

“Akio,” Sally says with a small laugh that only amplifies your resolve. You want her to the point of senselessness, unable to recall any name but your own.

Your lips migrate down the curve of her freckled neck, your hands rising upwards beneath her cable knit sweater to caress the warm skin beneath. She shivers and sneaks her own cool hands beneath the edge of your shirt in retribution, dragging her nails gently upwards across your back. You pull away to remove your top and she follows, her mouth seizing yours in a desperate claim.

Between impassioned kisses, you repeat the same question as before, “What was his name again?”

“Aki—” Sally attempts to gasp out, but you press your hand over her mouth before she can finish the sentence.

Your thumb dips between her parted lips, and your breath catches as Sally’s tongue darts out across its fleshy pad. She grabs your wrist to prevent your retreat, her breath tickling your palm as she sprinkles kisses across your lifeline. Unwilling to fully cede control, your free hand hitches higher to undo the back of her bra, which you unclip with practiced ease.

“What’s his name?” you demand one last time.

Releasing your hand, Sally arches towards you with a gasp, silently begging you to finish removing the cloth barrier between your skin and hers.

“I don’t remember,” she cries out, burying her face into the crook of your shoulder so that you can’t make out her embarrassed flush. But you want to see it all.

You remove her top in the same way she did yours, lifting her chin so that you can look directly into her desire darkened eyes. “What’s my name?”

Sally scowls belligerently even as her body melts into yours.

Your hands curl beneath her thighs, lifting her up until she has no choice but to wrap herself around your hips. “What’s my name?” you repeat.

Suddenly, you’re falling backwards onto the mattress. Sally looms over you, her legs straddling your torso and her hands pressed firmly against your shoulders. She smirks down at you, triumphant in her successful shove. Her curls tickle against your cheek as she leans over.

“Mine,” she whispers into your ear. “You’re mine.”