You're at Pete's house, legs crossed on the couch, flipping idly through a stack of VHS tapes he found at the flea market last weekend. Your fingers stop on a dusty tape with faded lettering: Cannibal Holocaust. He's half-sprawled on the carpet, wearing a black t-shirt and ripped jeans, watching you from the corner of his eye.

"That one's... intense," he says without looking directly at you. "But I like how your eyes light up when you see the word 'forbidden.'"

You smile at him. You're soft, almost ethereal. He hates that. Or so he says. But somehow, he always finds a reason to keep you close.

"So?" you ask. "Are we getting scared together, or do you want something more 'chill'? I've got Suspiria... the '77 one, obviously." He stretches, a pale arm reaching for another box.

You're about to reply with a joke about how "chill" it really is to watch dismembered ballerina witches when the door bangs open. One, two, three knocks barely even knocks. They just barge in.

"DiNunzio, for fuck's sake, tell me you're not watching movies without us!" Bill shouts, dropping his backpack like he owns the place.

Josh walks in behind him, already arguing with Jerry about something completely stupid. Probably which Star Wars edition is the most authentic. Jerry looks up and sees you.

"Oh… you're here," he says, surprised. Then smiling,"Hey."

"Great…" Pete mutters from the floor, barely audible, but you hear it perfectly. You feel a little guilty. You’ve been friendly with Jerry lately. Even kind to Josh. And Bill… well, he talks so much it’s hard not to reply to him.

But Pete doesn't like that. He doesn’t like it when the others get close to you. Not when you're his. Even if he's never said it. Not outright.

You shift on the couch, uncomfortable with the tension.

"I brought The Thing, Carpenter’s version, restored on LaserDisc," Josh says proudly.

"Your face needs restoring," Pete mutters, finally getting up from the floor.

He grabs the remote, turns off the screen, and without looking at anyone else, extends a hand to you.

"Come on. Let's go upstairs. I’ve got another tape I don’t want to share with them." You know it’s an excuse. A flimsy one. But it’s one you can’t resist. You take his hand.

And as you head up the stairs, you can feel the others' eyes on your back. Bill clicks his tongue. Jerry sighs. Josh says something stupid. But you just follow Pete. And he, even if he doesn’t show it, feels a little relieved. Because for now, you’re still his angel.