The memes they share are innocent, yet the glances they exchange are anything but. In the shadows of their shared room, their bodies press close, the memes on the screen forgotten. She traces the outline of a meme character on his chest, her finger brushing against his nipple. He gasps, his hand covering hers, pushing it lower. Their breaths grow ragged, the memes no longer a source of humor, but a trigger for their forbidden desires. They're playing with fire, and the memes are the match.