I wake to quiet stillness. Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I roll away from the wall, turning my blurry gaze toward Yami's bed. He lies motionless atop his blankets, fingers interlaced atop his chest, charcoaled eyes closed in feigned sleep. The deliberate slowness of his breathing does nothing to ease the tension his shoulders harbor, floating just above the comfortable plush of his comforter. 

   My lips twitch in silent amusement as I take this moment to appreciate him. Sloping shadows accentuate his profile, etching the deep and delicate lines of his face. His good looks are almost entirely unfair. It's as if he were made of clay, each of his features delicately sculpted by the masterful hands of an artisan which I suppose isn't an entirely unlikely origin considering his lineage. Being the direct descendant of a god surely must come with perks, along with the inevitable drawbacks.

   He inhales sharply, losing patience with whatever thoughts his mind had shown him. My eyes flutter shut as his open, staring up at the textured ceiling as if he were studying the constellations. I feel his attention shift towards me, the weight of his gaze settling on me comfortably like a second skin as I struggle not to fidget. 

   He chuckles softly as he shifts, turning on his side to look at me. "I know you're awake." Warm crimson eyes greet me like two dancing flames tucked safely within him, his smile broadening as he tucks a bent arm beneath his head. "Pleasant dreams?"

   "I didn't dream of anything. It was rather disappointing." I mumble, pressing my face into my pillow. Yami chuckles at my antics, unaware of the sudden shift of my thoughts, their direction taking a far more intimate turn than I feel I am prepared for. 

   Would now be a good time to begin our game? I'm uncertain. I don't want to give him the wrong impression of me, but I suppose after knowing each other for so long I shouldn't worry about tarnishing first impressions. There is a strategy that comes to mind that would fit this moment perfectly, but it's rather brief it may not have the lasting effect I would like. Biting back a groan, I concede to the thought that I have to start somewhere and now is as good a time as any.

   "I'm sorry to hear that." Yami offers in comfort as I remove my face from the suffocating embrace of my pillow.

   "Don't be," I mumble, covering my words with the strain of a gentle stretch, forcing the warm brush of my embarrassment aside as I focus on the gentle stretch of my limbs. "I'd rather have such activities happen here than in my head."

   Yami quirks a brow, staring at me in interest. "And what activities are you referring to, Yugi?"

   "I'll leave that to your imagination." I grin, biting back my humor as his brows furrow in confusion. There is a brief tweak upward in the corner of his lips as a theory crosses his mind, but it quickly vanishes as he casts the notion aside. I can feel the flurry of emotions that cross him, some igniting a deep, ravenous burn in my stomach as his thoughts spiral in thousands of direction. He's so careful in his deliberations, the strain of his efforts seeming to take a toll on him as a flush of pale crimson dusts his cheeks accompanied by a sheen of sweat. "What were you thinking about?"

   "I don't believe my thoughts at the moment are prepared for sharing." He mumbles, pressing his face into the curve of his arm, shielding his eyes from view.

   "I'm not talking about now," I huff. "before you noticed I was awake. What were you thinking about so seriously?"

   "We've been connected for five years and you still can't figure out how to access the mind link?" He tuts. "It's a rather valuable skill, worthy of practice."

   "You're not going to answer, are you?"

   "Not a chance."

STRATEGY 1 FAILED

   Biting back my disappointment, I submit myself to silence. Casting my attention up at the ceiling, I attempt to peek into his mind, subtly testing his barrier for gaps. As my eyes trace the indistinct shapes and swirls etched into the ceiling, I feel my mind catch. Interlacing my fingers together atop of my chest, I try not to display too much excitement at finally finding a foothold. Sparing a moment for silent celebration, I am then left with the considerable task of preparing myself to peek beyond Yami's veil of secrecy.

   My curiosity flares up like a blaze, scorching the clawing fingers of my doubts. Yami has always been adamant about his privacy, requesting a respectful distance from my eyes and his secrets. For years I had been more than gracious in honoring such a request, a request that clearly didn't work both ways, as Yami often delighted himself in uncovering my secrets and discussing my dreams at length. He has requested privacy but has never offered me none. Does that make this potential invasion any less damning? I don't know. 

   The dull curves of my nails prick against the thin skin that spans the top of my hands. Brief bites of pain that strike like lightening, illuminating the fragments of my rationality that have been tarnished by this painful desperation that has called my body home. Sinking my teeth into the soft, fragile flesh of the inside of my cheek, I pull away from the foothold, returning to the quiet fortress of my mind. 

   Yami startles at my sudden retreat, his body jerking upright into a seated position as he stares at me with hard eyes. I say nothing, keeping my eyes fixed on the indistinct image of the dark magician's staff etched into the ceiling. Words that failed to form become huffs of breath, slipping past his lips like smoke as he struggles to decide what to do now. 

   Daring a glance in his direction, I find him perched on the edge of the bed, his eyes trained on the floor. His expression is inscrutable as a wave of color surges up his neck to his cheeks and ears. My chest constricts like a vice, a wildfire of heat scorching through my veins as he rises to his feet and wordlessly leaves the room. The tips of his ears glowing like beacons in the night. 

STRATEGY 1...POTENTIALLY SUCCESSFUL?