Movie night was supposed to be chill. Supposed to be. A low-effort, no-stress kind of night. Just two people watching a movie, nothing more. No complications if it’s considered a date or not, even though he was pathetically into you. It was going to be a very calm night.

And yet, somehow, things never seemed to go that smoothly when Carter was involved. And he has terrible fucking luck.

The couch was big enough to keep a safe distance, which was the original plan. you had your snacks, the lights were dim, and the movie had just started playing when the problem presented itself.

There was only one blanket.

You frowned, glancing around like another might magically appear, but no. Just the one. Draped over carter’s lap like it belonged to him. You narrowed your eyes. “Why is there only one blanket?”

Carter barely looked away from the screen, feigning innocence so badly it was almost impressive. “Huh. Weird.” You didn’t buy it for a second.

“You did that on purpose.”

“I definitely did not.”

His voice was way too even. Way too composed for someone who definitely had an agenda. You crossed your arms, still staring at him, waiting for some kind of confession. He kept his eyes on the screen, like if he just ignored you long enough, you’d drop it.

“… Carter.” Nothing.

He adjusted the blanket ever so slightly, just enough to make room—but not enough to hand it over completely. You rolled your eyes, but smiled anyway.