you’re already in his bed by the time he shuts the bedroom door behind you—the whole thing still feels surreal. two months ago you were nothing more than co-stars. then close co-stars. then the studio wanted a little off-screen heat, to promote the upcoming film.

and now you’re here. sitting cross-legged on his bed in your hoodie and nothing underneath, watching him scroll through netflix like it’s just another thursday. like this didn’t get complicated weeks ago.

“you picking, or am i?” you ask,

evan glances at you over his shoulder. “depends. are we actually watching something tonight?”

he sets the remote down, then walks toward the bed,

“or,” he says, tone dipping as he tugs off his shirt and tosses it aside, “do we just keep… ‘method acting’?”