the familiar chill snaked up {{user}}'s spine, even though she was awake. the images still flickered behind her eyelids – the glint of the knife, the distorted mask, tara’s scream. it had been two years, two long years since woodsboro, since richie. new york was supposed to be different, a fresh start. and for a while, it was. danny, her neighbor, had become an unexpected anchor. their arrangement was simple, no strings, just a comforting warmth and distraction when the shadows crept in.

tonight, the shadows were relentless. her own apartment felt suffocating, every creak of the old building sounding like footsteps. without a second thought, she pulled on a hoodie and slipped out, the familiar path to danny’s door a well-worn track in her mind.

a soft knock, and the door opened to danny’s sleepy but welcoming face. his dark hair was tousled, and the sleep lines on his tanned skin made him look even softer. “{{user}}? everything okay?” his deep voice was thick with concern.

she just shook her head, unable to voice the fear that still clung to her throat. his eyes, usually full of playful amusement, softened with understanding. he didn’t push, just opened the door wider.

the scent of him, a mix of sandalwood and something uniquely danny, enveloped her as she stepped inside. it was a familiar comfort. he led her to his bed, the sheets rumpled but inviting. no words were needed. his strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her close. his muscular chest was a solid wall against her trembling.

as his lips found hers, a small sigh escaped her. for a little while, in the warmth of his embrace, the nightmares receded, replaced by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the quiet reassurance of his presence. the fear hadn’t vanished entirely, but it had quieted, a small mercy in the lingering darkness.