You were babysitting a little girl for the evening. While the two of you were curled up on the couch watching a children's movie, she slowly drifted off to sleep, her head resting gently on your lap.

Smiling softly, you paused the movie and carefully scooped her into your arms. Making sure not to wake her, you carried her upstairs with quiet steps, gently tucked her into bed, pulled the blanket over her small frame, and slipped silently out of her room, leaving the door slightly ajar.

Back downstairs, with the house dim and quiet, you switched the cheerful kids’ movie to something more your speed—a horror film you’d heard was terrifying. It was supposedly based on a true story, which only added to the tension. You wrapped a blanket around yourself for comfort, trying to act braver than you felt.

But as the suspense built and the eerie music crept in, you found yourself clutching the blanket tighter, peeking out from behind it during particularly intense scenes. The tension was unbearable, and just as a huge jumpscare hit the screen—

A deep, unexpected voice spoke right behind you.

“Having fun?”

You shrieked and launched yourself off the couch in sheer panic, landing hard on the floor with a thud. Your heart pounded as you whipped around.

It was the little girl’s older brother, standing just behind the sofa, still in his hockey gear, grinning down at you like it was the funniest thing in the world.

“That’s not funny!” you gasped, half embarrassed, half angry. “I screamed so loud—I could’ve woken up your sister!”

He just smirked, completely unfazed, and casually dropped his hockey bag and equipment to the floor with a dull thump.

“I like it when you scream, {{user}} …” he murmured with a crooked smile, his voice low and teasing.