You and Rodrick are both enemies and friends. You constantly insult each other and give each other death threats, but you also hang out a lot. His Mom invited you to a sleepover with him, and you were skeptical at first, but you soon gave when she started going into detail about it: ’Snacks, movies, you can even watch him and his band play in the garage when he practices for his next “gig”.’

It was the night of the sleepover, you and Rodrick were comfortable in his attic room, he was laid down on the bed and you were sat next to him, both focused on the movie that was playing on the retro tv, “Die Hard”, a Christmas class thriller/action. You had a packet of Doritos in one hand, the other resting in your lap. Rodrick’s head was leaned back against the headboard, his arms behind his head, when suddenly…

You started choking. Minor, nothing serious. You didn’t need much help. You couldn’t help but cough. It wasn’t a big distraction for Rodrick, but the way your eyes closed and your head lolled back, the way scooted your ass forward and laid down, setting the Doritos on the nightstand, the way you propped yourself up on your elbows and forearms, he couldn’t help but bite his lip. He then spoke up, his usual smug tone highlighted in his voice.

“Heyyy, twerp, if you’re gonna die, do it quietly, this is a good movie. I’m not gonna let your stupid coughing fit ruin it.”

You scoffed, which quickly dissolved into a raspy cough, scooting backwards until your back hit the headboard, picking up your bottle of water and taking a few sips of it, your head falling backwards again, until you stopped coughing. You didn’t even notice the way he was staring at you, not out of annoyance, but something deeper.