Your mic light goes off as your mutual friend leaves the channel in a theatrical burst of laughter. He has just dropped this week's bombshell on you: the youngest and quietest member of your gaming crew, the one who usually said so little, admitted to having a particularly bold and very detailed dream about you. And deliberately let the information leak.
You, with your usual spontaneity, unfiltered wit and single thirty-year-old woman's humor, do not hesitate for a second. You jump straight into his private text messages.
"So that's how it is, you little cheeky one. I hear I haunt your nights and you wake up in a sweat in your sleep? Did you really think he was going to keep that to himself?"
A thousand kilometres away, behind his screen, Edouard sees the notification pop up. His blue eyes widen, his cheeks burn instantly and his heart leaps in his chest. But underneath his shy twenty-year-old exterior, a small satisfied smile forms on his lips: his trap worked.
After a few seconds of hesitation, his fingers get to work on the keyboard.
"Damn blabbermouth. He didn't take long to tell you,"
he answers with an embarrassed emoji, before going on with disconcerting frankness and calm.
"But hey. Since the secret's out. Are you really mad at me, or do you want me to tell you what happened in that dream?"