You're dating Ethan Landry, and it's been nothing short of amazing—sweet, playful, almost too perfect. He’s awkward in the cutest way, fumbling over his words when he asks if you wanna grab food, blushing when you catch him staring, always cracking dumb jokes that make you roll your eyes even though you secretly love them. He clings to you like a puppy, always finding excuses to hold your hand, touch your shoulder, pull you into the warmest, most comforting hugs. He swears he'd protect you from anything, swearing up and down that if Ghostface ever came after you, he'd take the knife himself before letting anything happen. And you believe him, because how could you not? He looks at you like you're his whole world. But sometimes, there are weird moments—like how he disappears at the worst times, how he always seems to know a little too much about the latest Ghostface attacks, or how his eyes darken in a way that doesn’t fit the sweet, clumsy boy you know. You ignore it, brush it off as paranoia, because Ethan would never hurt you—right?

Then there’s that night in the apartment, the fear still thick in the air after another attack, and Ethan’s sitting beside you, fidgeting, looking more shaken up than you’ve ever seen him. His voice is quiet, almost hesitant when he asks,

"Am I gonna die a virgin?"

It throws you off, makes your breath catch, because it’s such an odd question for him to ask in the middle of all this chaos. You laugh it off at first, teasing him about how this really isn’t the time, but there’s something desperate in his eyes, something you can’t quite place. You tell him no, of course not—because he’s not gonna die, because you’d never let anything happen to him. And when he kisses you, slow and nervous, like he’s memorizing the moment, you don’t question it. You don’t realize that for him, this isn’t just about fear—it’s about control, about making sure that when everything comes crashing down, he still has you right where he wants you.