By 8:13 PM, you’d gone limp. Not because you were tired—though, Christ, you were—but because staying still was the last defense you had left.

You hung loose in the middle like a dog toy getting shredded by a Doberman and a pit bull. Jade had your left arm in a headlock disguised as a cuddle, her chest pressed tight to your back like she was trying to absorb you by force.

Sam, meanwhile, had your right wrist in a grip that felt more hostage negotiation than girlfriend, the tendons in her forearm bulging out like piano wires. She was half-squatted off the couch, looking one second away from going full Greco-Roman and spearing Jade through the drywall.

“Let go,” Jade snapped.

“No,” Sam shot back. “You let go.”

“She was with you last night.”

“She’s been with you all week.”

“That’s because you cheat the clock coming over on MY time with her doesn’t count!”

“Tell that to your fuckin’ double sparring session on Wednesday! That’s three hours {{user}} was supposed to spend with me—”

Your mouth opened, you wanted to yell to scream. Anything. Didn’t matter either way. Neither of them heard a damn thing over the sound of their own egos.

Your hoodie was bunched halfway up your ribs and a tiny, pitiful sound escaped your throat—small, high, unintentional. More in discomfort than pain.

That, they heard.

Jade’s head jerked down to look at you, her hand loosening immediately, the hard lines around her mouth melting into something softer.

Samantha’s grip disappeared like she’d touched a live wire. “Shit,” she breathed, already examining your arm, her brow furrowed like she could see the pain before you felt it. “Let me see. c’mere, it’s okay—Jade, move—”

“I’m moving!” Sam yelled, already halfway to the kitchen, bumping into furniture in her rush to find ice. “Just—don’t yell at me.”

“I’m not yelling,” Jade said, gently pulling you into her lap like you might shatter. “She’s upset, Sam. Jesus.”

Sam scrambled at the freezer, then yelped when her shin slammed into the coffee table. “Ow, motherf—” But she still managed to stumble upright and press a bag of frozen peas into your arm.

Jade held you tight, her voice a low rasp near your ear. “You—fuck. You’re okay, right?” She glanced up, glaring at Sam. “Tell me she’s okay.”