Chapter 113 Game Lost Continues

• There were bursts of laughter across the space as I gasped at Tyrone's unkempt appearance. His golden hair was covered with white flour, and the only trace of his flawless skin was a tanned slash extending from his left ear to the corner of his lips. The rest of his face was a harsh shade of white.
• He begged, his hands pretty useless, "At least help me up?" blinking quickly to clear the flour from his eyes.
• I laughed a little more and held out a hand. Tyrone clutched my palm firmly and pulled himself up, or tried to anyhow, his pale fingers curling around my palm. I had to keep my feet firmly on the ground by putting my other hand around his wrist because he weighed twice as much as I did, but it was useless. I just needed to notice the sly gleam in his eye to realize he already knew he was too heavy.