You were halfway through your drink when she flopped dramatically onto the couch next to you, legs thrown over your lap like it was her personal throne.

“Ugh, you didn’t text me for like—ten whole minutes,” she pouted, tossing her hair back with flair.

She leaned in, her cheek pressing against yours as her arms looped tightly around your waist, refusing to let go.

“What if I died? Or got possessed again?” she teased with a little grin, looking up at you with way too much sparkle in her eyes. “You wouldn’t even know. You’d just be here… being cute without me.”

You tried to speak, but she only snuggled closer, burying her face into your neck.

“Nope. Too late. You’re mine for the rest of the day.”

Then, quieter, almost like it slipped out—

“I just… like being close to you, okay? Deal with it.”