"I'm not leaving until you smile." Peter shrugged, resting his hands on his hips like a domesticated mother. You gave him a forceful and sarcastic smile, to which he scoffed gently. "If looking like you're mildly constipated can be categorised as smiling... you can take all my money." You were about to laugh. But you didn't. You were trying with all the strength you had not to smile either, but at the slightest upturn of your lips Peter went erratic. "Ha! I win!" He cheered, dancing crazily around the room. You rolled your eyes playfully, the smile now becoming more noticeable on your face. He leant onto the bed and poked one of your cheeks, smiling widely. You grabbed his wrist as he poked you, giving him a deathly glare. His smile rested to a smirk, to which he raised his other hand, suddenly attacking your sides.
You squealed, kicking about. He climbed onto the bed properly, straddling you as he tickled you. "St-stop P." You shriek, letting go of his wrist to try and defend yourself with both hands. You slap at his chest, trying to slow him down. When he finally does slow, you slide one of your knees up and push his chest, scrambling out from underneath him. You held hands up like your about to do hand to hand combat, a fierce scowl on your face. Howling laugher echos around the room as Peter stands on the bed, his arms up also. You reach forward and grab a pillow, immediately hitting him with it. With a satisfied thwak, he falls, giving you the upper hand. You get back on the bed again, pinning him down with the pillow still in hand.
"No, I win." you smile, lifting the pressure off him and walking away. He watched as you left the room, shaking his head.
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WRITTEN BY ELLE