You knew it was a win-lose situation, he'd always win, and you'd always lose; it was how the game always played out. It wasn't that it was rigged, no, it was just the way of life. He was a heartbreaker, and you were hopelessly in love with him.

You would pretend the only person he ever smiled that way at was you, the only person he ever held like that was you, you would pretend you were his first everything, like he was yours.

You would always look at him when he's somewhere far off, talking to his friends, analyzing every feature and flaw, making sure he was really real, and all yours. You knew he would leave you if he ever found out you were sick, or worse, he'd stay just because you were sick, and not to be with you. So you never told him. You expected him to leave you anyway, and prepared yourself every day for it, too afraid to let you guard down, and yet, it still came as a shock when he did leave you.

He had apologised, and you had run way, the tears falling and the rain clinging to your skin. You didn't come to school the next day, nor the next, but when you did, he had already found someone else. You didn't expect anything different, it was just how it always worked, but it still hurt, it still hurt so much. You would offer him a weak smile whenever he'd look at you, and remember how he held you against his chest, arms wrapped firmly around your waist, with his lips pressed to your ear as he whispered, "I love you, I love you, Je t'aime," over and over, his voice chilling you to the bone and still making the warmth flow through you.

When you died, it came as a shock to him, he was the one left broken hearted for a change, and even then, you couldn't win the game. As he wept aside your coffin, drunk and depressed, you were dead.

And leaning to whisper in your ear, his voice sending the bad kind of chills to your bones, the Grim Reaper whispered, "Checkmate."

A/N. So I wrote this in Physics, it was kinda random but I like it.