You don’t even remember whose idea it was to watch a horror movie.

All you know is that at some point, Ni-ki stretched out on the couch beside you — arm thrown lazily along the backrest — and then you shifted closer… and then he shifted closer… And now you’re practically tucked into his side. His arm isn’t just around your shoulders anymore — it’s firm, secure, his hand resting warm against your upper arm while his thumb traces slow, mindless patterns into your skin like he’s grounding himself there.

The TV light flickers across his face.

Sharp nose. Low eyes.

That stupidly calm expression like nothing ever fazes him.

Meanwhile, the tension in the movie starts building — eerie silence filling the speakers — and without even realizing it, your hand finds his arm again.

This time, you hold on tighter.

Your fingers press into his bicep, and you swear you feel it tense underneath your palm — not from the scare… but because of you.

Ni-ki doesn’t look at you right away. But his jaw shifts.

Another creak in the movie.

Another inch closer from him. His thigh presses against yours now, solid and warm, his chest brushing your shoulder every time he breathes. The arm around you tightens — not suddenly, just gradually — until you’re almost leaning into him.

Then— A loud crash from the TV. You flinch.

And end up half climbing onto him. There’s a beat of silence.

Ni-ki finally looks down at you.

Really looks.

“You okay?” he asks — but his voice is quieter now.

You nod… but you don’t move away. Your hand is still gripping his arm. Your face is way too close to his shoulder. Close enough that when the next tense moment plays, you turn your head and— Bite.

Another tense scene plays out. You cling harder without thinking. He lets out the softest breath — not annoyed, more like amused.

“You’re going to leave fingerprints,” he whispers. You glance up at him, ready to defend yourself, but he’s already looking down at you. The shifting light from the screen catches in his eyes, low and lazy, before his other hand comes up to gently steady your wrist where you’re gripping him. He doesn’t move your hand away.

Instead, he presses it flatter against his arm. “It’s okay,” he says softly. “Hold on.”

The next scare hits and you instinctively hide against him — face tucked near his shoulder, half-buried against his chest.

He reacts immediately.

His arm wraps fully around your back this time, palm splayed at your waist as his thumb starts tracing slow, grounding circles. Your legs end up tangled without either of you noticing — your knee nudging between his as you settle even closer.

And when you absentmindedly nip at his bicep— A quiet inhale.

Ni-ki goes completely still. “…You just bit me.”

Not hard. Just enough to feel the muscle shift under your teeth. Ni-ki inhales sharply.

His entire arm flexes under your mouth this time — no subtlety at all — and the hand at your waist suddenly tightens, pulling you flush against him before you can even process it.

his grip adjusts — thumb pressing into your side as if to keep you right there.

The movie keeps playing in the background, but neither of you is watching anymore—just pretending

"It's scary, isn't it?" He murmured quietly in your ear, you didn't even notice how you're almost perch up in his lap.