"No!" Ethan whispered in an exhausted tone. The entire place went silent, so quiet that he could hear his heartbeat and the echo of his shuddered breath.
He jerked forward as he glared at the board, with sweat drops beaded around his forehead. The crowd went mute, staring at the two players, the chessboard, and back at the host as they waited for his judgment.
"And we have a winner," the host yelled into his microphone.
The crowd erupted into a loud, excited cheer. They rushed after Scarlett, while Ethan remained on his seat, with his eyes intensely fixed on the board, bewildered but still pondering on how suddenly he had lost.
He bore the white pieces. He thought he had the most advantage over her— more time but less moves to make. He would have stalled, and waited for the time to run out on the both of them before he would be crowned the winner. Yet, those weren't his intentions.
He was particular about each piece he moved on the board. Yet, when he looked closer at the board, he realized his simplest, yet gravest mistake. His wrong movement of the knight had been her opening against his king. Then he realized, he made that move after he had caught a glimpse of her expression, and how he had laughed softly upon seeing the determination written in her eyes.
He exhaled sharply, wearing a suddenly satisfying smile on his face as he rested his head against his chair. He wasn't disappointed or angry with himself, neither was there a hate for her.
Rather, it was the opposite. It was evident in the way his smile was permanently seated on his face, and how his eyes were fixed on her intensely as he got lost into his flight of fancies.
"Hey!" Scarlett called out to him over the din, but with her voice loud enough to snap him out of his reverie.
She was smiling at him, clutching the trophy as she stared at him with those eyes that reflected multiple thoughts harboured in her.
"You did well today," she said with her hands stretched out to him.
He was still leaning on the chair, but with his arms folded. His eyes went from her face to her hands, and back to her face again. Certainly, he was not going to refuse her kind gestures, or nudge a grudge with her because he lost to her.
He giggled softly, and shook her hands.
"You too," he replied.
"I'll be seeing you around, Ethan Grey," she winked at him, and giggled in a soft tone that melted his heart at the spot.
"Not if I see you first," Ethan murmured to himself. She had already walked away, but his eyes were still on her before her presence vanished from his sight.
He exhaled sharply, and picked himself up from the chair. He was ready to leave.
He walked out of the Town Hall, to the gate where Michael stood, waiting for him. Michael's hands were in his pockets. He had sighted Ethan Grey from afar, and he was certain that the other had seen him too. Yet, he turned his face away grudgingly, clenched and fierce as though he was extremely furious with him.
"I can't believe you actually lost," Michael started, cutting off Ethan's words from his mouth.
Ethan was thrown back. His eyebrows were furrowed, just as his hands were stuck midway in the air just when he wanted to greet his friend.
"Uhmmm... Okay, Mike. But it's a game. You don't need to take it so seriously," Ethan responded in a calm, but rather confused tone.
"To a girl..." Michael dragged the words emphatically with bulged eyes, as though he tried to force the depth of the matter into Ethan's head.
"Practically, my kind of girl," Ethan responded with a nonchalant attitude. He looked past Michael's sudden attitude, and spoke the words with a smile that seemed as though he were under some form of hypnosis.
He turned around and headed out of the gate, with Michael following after him as he continued.
"Did you see the way she played back there? Every move she made on that board was divinely orchestrated. She was... good. Man, she knew her onions," he rained praises on her, reminiscing on her poise and composure throughout the game.
But those things weren't Michael's interest. They sounded more like gibberish to him.
"What happened to "eyes on the prize?" Huh?" Michael pressed, with an even more intense tone.
Ethan halted in his steps, and so did Michael. He let out a slight groan as he rolled his eyes, turned around and stared into Michael's eyes.
"Actually, my eyes were on the prize, Michael. In fact, I think I won the prize. Not just the one you were expecting," he said.
He patted Michael's shoulders, chuckling slightly as he walked away.
Michael was stunned. He leaned backward, with furrowed eyebrows as Ethan's laughter echoed in his ears, while he tried to decipher what he meant.
As soon as the meaning struck him, he grew infuriated. It was as though he was a ticking time bomb, about to explode at the spot. Watching his friend speak passionately about something more vital than a thousand dollar prize felt like his patience was peeling off his skin, layer after layer, leaving raw nerves.
But for Ethan, it was as though with every flashing glimpse of her face, or every reminisce of her voice and laughter, came a new and intensely deeper feeling for her.
He could go on for hours, talking and thinking of her, and would not run out of sweet things to liken her to. As soon as he returned home, he fell on his bed, and gazed at the ceiling with that same hypnotic smile seated on his face.
"Oh, Scarlett, my queen. All paths do lead to you on this very board," he whispered to himself, and closed this eyes, hoping he would dream of her.