We kiss for so long that our lips merge into one endless kiss, making us forget everything in the world. When we finally pull away, it feels like there's not enough air, and my body keeps reaching for her as if she's the source of life. We lie in silence, wrapped in each other's arms, feeling our hearts beating in unison, and every touch brings more peace than words ever could.
At some point, I want to jump up and dance from happiness because I feel limitless joy. But instead, I inhale her scent, which has become the sweetest and most familiar to me, and with each second, my heart fills with warmth. I feel like I'm ready to go through anything with her.
My Rebel Girl and I fall asleep together, not noticing how quickly the night passes. I wake up to the bright sunlight streaming through the curtains. The girl is lying next to me, her leg casually draped over me, as if emphasizing that she's here and I am hers. What a little rascal, I think, admiring her. She looks so innocent, despite her rebellious nature. But at this moment, I don't want to change a thing.
I turn my head and look at her. She sleeps peacefully beside me, her face so calm and serene, as if the world around her doesn't exist. Her dark hair with red strands falls in soft waves over the pillow, shifting slightly with her breathing. A faint smile plays on her lips, as if she's having a sweet dream. I freeze for a moment, enjoying the sight. My heart clenches slightly with tenderness.
I need to find a way to punish her for that morning drawing on my face a few days ago. A smirk appears on my lips. Maybe I've caught it from Katrin because, at this moment, a mischievous idea pops into my head. Honestly, I just want to have some fun. The thought of teasing her a little lifts my mood. But I know I need to be careful not to cross the line—it should feel like a playful game rather than a prank.
I slowly sit up in bed, trying not to wake her. The room is quiet, the only sound being her soft breathing. That sound strangely soothes me. Looking at her, I suddenly feel a wave of warmth. She is so genuine, so natural in everything she does. Maybe that's why I never get mad at her antics. There's no malice or calculation in them—only pure joy and mischief.
But now I want to turn the tables a little. I want to see her eyes widen in surprise and then light up with laughter. I want to hear her bright, infectious laugh—the one that always lifts my spirits.
I quietly get out of bed, making sure not to make a sound, and, stepping barefoot, I head toward the door. In the hallway, I pause for a moment, listening to the silence. As I go downstairs to the living room, I notice my clothes still scattered messily on the floor and couch, a reminder that I never picked them up yesterday. But right now, something else catches my interest.
My gaze lingers on the pile of colorful pillows, always neatly arranged on the couch. Different shapes and sizes, they look like they're just waiting to become part of some grand plan.
Katrin loves this couch. She can spend hours lounging on it, surrounded by pillows, making herself as comfortable as possible. It's almost endearing how much she enjoys it. But right now, these pillows have suddenly become my weapon of revenge.
Grabbing as many as I can, I struggle to hold them all, but my excitement only grows. Carefully, I make my way back to the bedroom, where my Rebel Girl is still peacefully asleep. Her breathing is steady, her face so innocent that, for a second, I hesitate. But memories of her little prank quickly bring back my determination.
I carefully arrange the pillows on the floor next to the bed, trying not to make a sound. My heart pounds with mild excitement, like a schoolboy planning a prank. Finally, I grab one pillow and freeze, like a predator ready to pounce.
"She's about to get it from me! And I mean that literally, not figuratively," I smirk inwardly, slowly raising my hand.
A small part of me still hesitates. Her serene expression, slightly tousled hair, and the gentle warmth radiating from her stir tenderness in me again. But I am determined: this revenge will be fun and harmless. The thrill has completely taken over me. Just a little payback to make her understand I'm not going to sit idly by. It will all be in good measure, no hard feelings. After all, I just want to give her a bit of fun and leave us with another memory to laugh about later.
Slowly and carefully, I lean closer to put my plan into action, feeling a mix of excitement and slight nervousness rising inside me. As I start hitting her on the butt with the pillow, I hear her groan in displeasure, clearly pulled out of a sweet dream. Her sleepy eyes slowly open, and a look of utter confusion fixes on me. I stifle a chuckle, watching her try to process what is happening.
"Good morning, Rebel Girl!" I say with a slight grin, not giving her a chance to recover, and swat her again with the pillow on her adorable behind.
"Are you serious?!" she whispers indignantly, still half-asleep.
But I'm not about to stop. I bend down, pick up another pillow, and with a sly smile, toss it near her. The first pillow is still in my hand, and I lightly "hit" her with it again, trying not to laugh.
Like lightning, she instantly jumps out of bed, and I barely have time to notice her red curls flying in the air, her face lit up with unbridled energy. Once she is on her feet, her gaze immediately falls on the pile of pillows I brought earlier. A triumphant smile lights up her face. She perks up like a predator ready to strike, her body instantly tense, like a panther about to pounce on its prey. Mischief flashes in her eyes, and a challenge ignites a fierce fire within them.
"Oh, you want a war this early in the morning, Max?" she says with a daring, almost provocative smile, her voice sounding like a challenge that can't be ignored. "Then you'll get it!"
The girl grabs the nearest pillow like a weapon and, without wasting a second, lunges at me. The pillow in her hands seems like an extension of herself—light and agile, just like her body. I am so stunned by her swiftness that I lose focus for a moment and miss the first blow.
But Katrin doesn't let up. Light and graceful, like a cat, she attacks me, laughing so contagiously that I can't help but laugh back. Pillows fly in every direction, filling the room with soft thwacks and the sound of our laughter.
"Hey!" I feign indignation, shielding myself with a pillow that is now my only defense against her onslaught.
But she isn't about to stop. Her eyes sparkle with a thirst for battle, and her smile makes it clear this isn't just a joke—it's a real fight for victory.
Folding the pillow in my hands, I don't hesitate and hurl it back, hitting her right in the stomach. She groans, but soon her laughter rings out louder, clearer, like a thunderclap, filling the room with unrestrained joy. Fire burns in her eyes, and her smile grows even wider. She instantly recovers and charges again, not giving me a second to catch my breath.
"Surrender, victory is mine in this battle!" Katrin chants, already seeing her triumph before her.
"We'll see about that!" I mimic her tone, fighting with just as much enthusiasm as she does.
We keep up the fight, pillows flying in every direction. Her maneuvers grow more inventive: she skillfully tries to hit my legs to catch me off guard. But I'm not about to give up either. Parrying her attacks deftly, I immediately counter with my own, trying to keep my balance and not lose my fighting spirit.
"Oh, you little trickster!" I laugh, dodging another blow.
Suddenly, Katrin makes a sharp move. Grabbing a pile of pillows, she shouts and dashes out of the room, running toward the kitchen:
"Try to catch me!"
I freeze for a moment, considering her plan, but when I see her smug grin, I immediately grab the remaining pillows and rush after her.
In the kitchen, I catch up to her, wrapping my arms around her waist. She lets out a sharp squeal, like a little wild animal, and immediately starts fighting back, swinging her pillow like a sword. Her movements are lightning-fast, and I barely manage to dodge her strikes. One precise hit lands on my side, and I can't hold back my laughter, loosening my grip. It's so unexpected that I almost lose my balance.
"Let me go!" she exclaims, pretending to be indignant, but I can see her eyes sparkling with joy and the corners of her lips barely holding back a wide smile. Rebel Girl is like fire—hot and unpredictable—and I know this battle isn't over yet.
"Alright, alright, I'll be merciful," I say, letting her go.
But in truth, I do it on purpose to give her a head start. I don't want to take all the joy out of the game for her. I know she'll resist until the very end, and that only adds to the fun.
Katrin immediately darts toward the kitchen island, her body quick and graceful like a cat, hiding behind it as if she's devising a strategic plan. This spot becomes her shelter, her fortress, and I know she'll launch her attack with renewed vigor. Pillows start flying one after another, like projectiles, and I barely have time to dodge.
"Give up, Max! You don't stand a chance!"
I know that even if I lose, this moment will still be unforgettable for both of us.
"Never!" I reply, dodging one pillow and immediately throwing one back. But it flies past my opponent, and I just smirk, realizing I can't win this time. Still, I keep fighting—for the fun of it, to keep this moment from ending.
She peeks out from behind her cover, her hair tousled, cheeks flushed, and eyes sparkling with joy and excitement. Her laughter fills the kitchen, creating an atmosphere of pure happiness.
I take a step forward, trying to get closer, but she quickly grabs a new pillow and attacks again. I keep fending her off, but at that moment, I realize the victory is already ours. This isn't a fight—it's pure happiness, embodied in laughter and mischief.
"You're relentless, Rebel Girl!" I shout, picking up another "weapon" from the floor, ready for a new strike.
"You don't even know what I'm capable of yet!"
I could've watched her forever, seeing her sparkle with joy and confidence. Every laugh of hers felt like a gift, and in that moment, I felt like we were experiencing something special—not just a morning, but a moment when the world disappeared, and it was just the two of us. Her laughter was the reward of the day, and I knew she was happy, which made my morning bright and full. Fire burned in her eyes, and the air felt light and free, as if she brought that feeling with her. Nothing else mattered—only this moment, right now.
Seeing her so beautiful again is pure happiness. She stands before me, and I can't take my eyes off her. Her red curls, like flames, cascade over her shoulders, catching the light and giving her face a magical aura. Those curls have always been her pride, their fiery color sparkling in the rays, making me forget about everything else. I feel something deeper than admiration stirring inside me. I am captivated by her beauty and brightness, and in that moment, I realize just how deeply I am in love with her. I haven't just fallen for her looks—I've fallen for her soul. She makes me open up, revealing sides of myself I hadn't known existed. And it's amazing. I love that she loves those sides of me and accepts me for who I am.
Last night strengthened our bond. I couldn't forget her existence. When I thought she might disappear, my heart clenched, and my thoughts became chaotic. How could I forget someone who had changed my life? If she left, maybe everything would stay the same on the surface, but inside, I'd be empty. I didn't want to go to parties without her—it wouldn't mean anything anymore. Everything had changed when she came into my life, and I had become a different person.
We keep up our battle until exhaustion finally forces us to stop. We both collapse onto the couch, catching our breath, laughing, and glancing at each other as if we both feel there's more between us than just a game. She is beautiful, more so than ever, her red curls slightly tousled, and a smile plays on her lips, as if she knows I understand: I can't be without her anymore.
Our arms are so tired we can barely move them. We sit close, our bodies almost touching, but no words are needed. In that moment, everything is clear without speaking. I know that to her, I'm not just anyone—I'm someone who sees her for who she truly is, with her fiery hair and inner strength. She is a miracle, and I'm ready to hold onto that miracle, never letting go.
"So, who won? You or me?" Her voice is hoarse from exhaustion, her breathing heavy, as if every breath takes the last of her strength. She licks her lips, her eyes burning with a thirst for victory, and I know this isn't just a game to her. She can't settle for a tie. She is so determined to win that I marvel at how she keeps going despite her fatigue.
"Both. It's a tie," I say, slumping my shoulders, knowing there's no arguing with her.
"No, no. That's not good enough. I want to win this battle."
Who am I to argue with that beauty and spirit? There's a challenge in her eyes, and I know she needs proof.
"Fine, I lost, and you won, Rebel Girl."
"Yes!" she shouts, jumping to her feet, her face lit up with a triumphant smile. But her shout isn't the joyful cry I'd expected. It's more like a cry of exhaustion, painful, as if victory has cost her everything.
She sinks back onto the couch beside me, her breathing rapid and uneven, her red curls sticking to her face as if her energy is completely spent. I watch her, feeling my heart ache as I see her like this—strong yet vulnerable.
But she is still Rebel Girl. And for her, victory isn't just the end of a game. It's proof that she will always fight to the end, never giving up, no matter how much it takes. And of course, I admire her determination and her refusal to stop all over again.