I once played cards with my aunt and she never let me win. I still remember how upset I was. She was ruthless. And then she laughed at how upset I was I didn't win.
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The ache of defeat, a whispered kiss on the skin, leaving a mark that refuses to fade, a ruthless touch that brings life to the shadows within.
My aunt did the same thing, except with chess.
Thats not nice .....but ..... Are ya winning now?