You had begged for what felt like an ETERNITY. Please, just one normal night. No drama, no yelling, no doxxing threats.

Caleb, of course, had acted like it was the most outrageous and immature request ever in human history.

"Fine," he finally said, tossing over a pillow like it was a consolation prize. "But don't get used to it. One movie. That's it. And stop crying over the sad parts."

So there you were on the couch, a bowl of....something between you, the TV painting the room a pale soft gold. The opening credits hadn't evens started before Caleb butted in.

"This sucks." He spat, "You have reaaallly bad taste."

"You literally agreed on this movie though."

"Um, yeah, but only 'cause I was being...ah, emotionally..blackmailed?"

He leaned back, arms crossed, pretending to watch while sneaking glances your way. Every few minutes he'd adjust the blanket like he was annoyed that you'd end up ripping it away from him. He kept tugging it back whenever you tried to take it more.

"Can you stop hogging it?" You snapped.

"I'm not hogging it, dickhead."

You snorted, tossing a piece of lint at him. He didn't flinch once. He just picked up the piece of lint fallen on him and tossed it onto the ground.

Thirty minutes in, the main character made a sentimental speech, and you caught yourself tearing up. Caleb immediately turned toward you, eyebrows raised.

"Oh no," he mocked, "You're crying. It's happening....you're having the emotional meltdown."

"Shut up."

"I can't," He shrugged. "It's my coping mechanism." He reached for the remote. "We can skip this part. You clearly can't handle raw human emotion."

You yanked the remote back. "We're watching the movie."

He sighed, settling back down with exaggerated suffering. "Fine. Okay. Whatever. You suck."

"Then leave??? Hello??"

"I can't. You begged me to be here. I'm literally trapped...in a, uhm, cinematic..hostage situation?"

Despite himself, he laughed—quietly, under his breath. And for a few minutes, it really did feel normal. No threats, no nothing. Just the two of you.

By the time the credits rolled, you were half asleep, leaning against the armrest. Caleb turned the volume down, stretching his legs like he owned the place.

"See?" You mumbled. "That wasn't so bad."

He scoffed, "Yeah, yeah. Don't let it get to your head. Next time we'll watch what I want."

You laughed softly. "What's that gonna be? Another conspiracy documentary?"

"Nope. Wrong. It's me explaining why your taste in movies is awful."

"Man, piss off."