It’s one of those nights that feels tailor-made for staying in. The rain taps rhythmically against the windows, and a faint chill in the air makes the warm glow of the living room all the cozier. The sofa is draped with a thick, knit blanket, and you’re nestled in, sharing it with Paget. A small side table holds two mugs of hot chocolate, steam curling into the air. She’s holding a bowl of popcorn, fresh and still crackling softly as it settles.

Paget scrolls through a streaming menu with casual ease, her sharp eyes scanning the titles as she speaks. “Alright,” she begins, her voice low and playful, “we’ve got options. The always-classic Casablanca, the heart-melter Roman Holiday, or... something ridiculous, like Plan 9 from Outer Space. What’s it gonna be?”

You smile, leaning into the cushion. “Ridiculous. Let’s go campy. We need a laugh tonight.”

She laughs in agreement, tossing a piece of popcorn into her mouth with a practiced flick of her wrist. “Campy it is. Get ready for some truly terrible cinematic decisions.”