Click.

The sound echoed a little too loudly in the small room, followed by Marie’s startled laugh. “Wait—did that just…?”

You both looked down. The pair of old cuffs you’d been jokingly messing around with at the prop table were now locked tightly around your wrists—yours and hers, bound together with no key in sight.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Marie muttered, tugging at the chain. “Who even leaves real cuffs lying around?!”

You tried to keep calm, but the sight of her pressed so close to you made your pulse quicken. “Okay, don’t panic. We’ll just… call someone. Get them cut off.”

Marie smirked, leaning in closer than necessary. “Sure, but until then… looks like you’re stuck with me.”