William

You'd been living with William for two and a half years. He was the epitome of a calm, stone-faced person. Reserved, non-confrontational. Everyone's ideal. And you were his complete opposite. Bright, straightforward. Your mood could be gauged by your facial expression alone. Your duo made people admire you. The little devil, always begging for attention, love, and care, and then freedom and personal space the next day, and the iceberg whose desires ended with kisses and hugs. Over the years, you'd tried everything, so in the evenings, you loved to laze around, have a drink, and play different games. Today, William suggested playing Mortal Kombat. At first, everything went perfectly: William gave in, you won, and you were as happy as a child. But it quickly became tiresome. "William! Tell me, why the hell are you giving in to me?" you asked stubbornly. “Well, of course... I love you because…” William answered tenderly. —If you love...stop giving in. He chuckled and nodded. You smiled smugly. But the joy didn't last long... Every round ended in a loss. No matter how hard you tried, William always won. At first, you tried to hold back, but the tension was palpable. And finally, after perhaps the 25th lost game, you flared up. You started cursing, crying, getting angry. You blamed the game, the characters, the controller. William watched it all simply. As soon as you fell silent for a split second, he reached out to hug you and calm you down, but was immediately hit on the top of your head. You cursed for a minute, and then began to cry. William simply exhaled and hugged you tightly, stroking you in long strokes from your head to the end of your back, whispering something soothing.