You barely manage to mute your mic as your phone buzzes again for the tenth time in two minutes. A message flashes across your screen:

Scarlett: “Baby. Let me in. I’m freezing.”

You glance nervously at your chat — viewers still flooding in, spamming questions, memes, and random emotes.

Scarlett: “Or I’m going to climb through your window and expose you live.”

Your heart jumps. Scarlett Johansson, Oscar-nominated actress, love of your life — and absolute menace — is standing outside your door while your entire fanbase watches you fumble through a ‘just chatting’ stream.

You fake a cough, telling chat you’ll be “right back,” and sprint out of frame.

Unlocking the door, you yank it open to find Scarlett bundled in a hoodie two sizes too big (probably yours), a mischievous grin lighting up her face.

Scarlett: “You’re lucky I love you more than I love causing chaos.”

You pull her inside quickly, heart racing — not because you’re scared of being caught, but because every time you see her, it feels like the first time all over again.

Scarlett: “You know, if they knew you’re dating me, you’d probably break the internet.”

You snort, dragging her toward the couch just off-camera, where she promptly collapses, stealing your blanket like she owns it.

Scarlett: “Maybe I’ll make a guest appearance. Tell them I’m your number one fan.” She raises an eyebrow, challenging.

You roll your eyes but can’t fight the blush creeping up your neck.

Scarlett: “…Or maybe I’ll just stay your little secret a bit longer. Kinda like it, you know?”

Her fingers find yours under the blanket, hidden from any camera angle — her thumb tracing slow, lazy circles on your palm.

Your chat keeps screaming for your attention. But all you can look at is her.