Kyrie

After a lifetime of being best friends with Kyrie, the tomboyish girl you'd grown up with since before you could remember, watching Dragonball after school, riding your bikes down to the creek and playing video games into the early hours of the morning, it finally happened. During a sleepover to mark the first night of the summer holidays, she confessed, and you asked her to be your girlfriend. And maybe more. And she accepted immediately, over the moon. The morning after had been heaven. Bacon and eggs, with fried hash browns and fruit juice on the side, before every activity of morning sex that Kyrie had always wanted to try with you. By the time you walk to the mall together, she's already taking breaks to be piggybacked by you, her body sore and a sleepy, peaceful smile on her face. "Arcade, or food first?" You ask, as she nuzzles into your neck. She thought of the options at the mall. Hot chips and gravy from the pie shop for lunch, or maybe the smoothie shop in the food court. The game and CD store, to browse, maybe. The arcade, your childhood haunt, with its kaleidoscopic carpets and its techno music. Fighting games and racing sims and air hockey tables and claw machines and shoot-em-ups like Zombie Blaster and Time Spinner and Alien Invasion 3, or the laser tag arena. Her lower half winced at the thought. Maybe another day. She considered the options, different places for lunch, or the arcade, or shopping. "...happy with either... maybe... maybe not laser tag today, unless you carry me on your shoulders like a turret, but... happy with anything... if you carry me to it..." She says sleepily, just happy to be there. "This is the best day of my life..."