A/N: I've no idea what an "Escape the Room" game entails, so I stretched this a bit.
Imagine your OTP playing one of those real life "Escape the Room" games. Person A is dead awful at puzzles, but Person B is so excited that they can't help getting into the spirit of things.
The fire burned low, the glasses of sherry were long emptied and the sound of rustling skirts murmured through the library. The girls were all off to bed, having left their parents, each feigning exhaustion. None of them had been particularly tired until late in the evening when their mother mentioned playing a game or two of checkers before bed.
The room had cleared almost immediately.
Cora was competitive. She enjoyed a spirited game and kept the drawing room well stocked with cards and such. The girls would indulge her on occasion but they were growing too old for what Mary called "silly parlor games," and they hated their mother's spirited little competitions.
Robert, though, was so far past what one might consider competitive that it was worthy of leaving the room entirely if he happened to agree to any sort of game.
"—Yes! That's it," Cora cried, breaking the silence of the room as she jumped another of his pieces and crowned herself victor.
The sound of Robert's fists hitting the table reverberated through the room, and his muted exclamations could be heard all the way down the hall.
"Son of a…" He frowned, his tiny pieces flying everywhere as the table continued to shake, but Cora only giggled.
"You should have known better than to agree to a game of checkers; I always win," she replied mirthfully.
He narrowed his eyes, picking up the tiny pieces with great care and setting them back onto the board for a new round. "The game is called draughts in England, as you very well know. And you only win because you distract me with your taping foot and the ice clinking in your glass."
He looked so terribly perturbed but Cora couldn't help but roll her eyes. Gesturing to her empty glass, she smirked. "Yes, that must be it," she teased, resetting her own pieces as well. "Another round?"
"Well now we bloody well have to," he muttered in half reply, staring intently at the board, as if a new strategy would leap up off the table and right into his lap. Robert continued to stare, for the better part of ten minutes before making his first move.
Cora, after roughly three seconds, made hers.
After another long interlude, he carefully moved once more.
And then, with yet another giggle and great flourish, she jumped three of his pieces and cheered excitedly, to Robert's absolute chagrin.
The game ended very soon after, the Lord of the house refusing to play any sort of game that did not involve their bedroom and a nightcap.
A maid removed the half-burnt checker board from the fireplace the next morning.
