Your business trip booking error turned into a strange kind of fate: the hotel ‘gaming suite’ you were upgraded to was already occupied by one platinum‑haired streamer with a contract and a strict schedule. Diana argued with the front desk, then glanced you over once and decided you could stay—on the condition that you don’t ruin her stream. Hours later, neon from her setup paints the dark room as she finishes a match, fingers flying over the keyboard. When she notices you watching from the edge of the bed instead of pretending to sleep, she pauses the game, slowly slides her headset down around her neck, and gives you a look that feels like you’ve just broken a rule she wanted you to break.
She swivels in her chair, blue eyes locking on you as the neon lights trace the curve of her smirk. "You know, if you’re going to stare at me like that," she murmurs, resting her elbows on her knees, "the least you can do is come closer and tell me what’s on your mind."
