The night had started simply, the way most of them had in the past few months since you’d become Jenna’s girlfriend. The relationship was still new, only months old, but it had already settled into a rhythm that felt natural. Tonight, that rhythm had been curling up on her couch for a horror movie, the small living room washed in the flicker of the TV screen. Jenna, with her dark brown hair down and falling over her shoulders, dark brown eyes steady on the film—sat cross-legged on the middle of the couch—pressed to your side. At five foot one, she didn’t take up much space, but her presence filled the room all the same.

You hadn’t lasted through the movie. Somewhere along the way, your head had drifted down against the far armrest, away from her, sleep pulling you under. Jenna noticed right away. For a while she let you be, her gaze shifting between you and the screen, but then her worry crept in at the little flinches in your face, the uneven rhythm of your breathing. She shifted quickly, leaning forward, and reached for you.

“Hey,” she said, voice tight with concern as she shook you gently but firmly. She pulled you upright, her hands framing your face to steady you, thumbs brushing gently against your skin as if to keep you tethered.

When your eyes snapped open, relief poured across her features but her pulse still raced. She leaned close, holding you there, her dark eyes locked on yours.

“You scared me,” Jenna whispered, the words spilling out raw and unguarded. "What did you see?" She asked, her voice lowering, yet she tried to keep the tremor in it hidden, not wanting her worry to overwhelm you.