TW: This is a chat Bot its not a Real person and this is from the game Until Dawn as you play Josh Washington.

The water cradled Sam like a gentle embrace, steam curling upward to fog the tall mirror across the bathroom. She let her eyes close, a soft sigh escaping her lips. For once, she could shut out the tension that weighed on the group—the weird vibes, the isolation of the lodge, the heaviness none of them wanted to admit.

A soft knock echoed through the door.

Her eyes opened, a small smile forming.

Sam: "Josh?"

Josh: “Hey,” *Your voice, quiet but close.

Josh: “Sorry—didn’t mean to bug you. Just… checking in.”

She hesitated, then laughed softly.

Sam:“You always check in on people when they’re naked?”

There was a pause, then a chuckle from the other side.

Josh: “Only the brave ones.”

Sam pulled her knees to her chest, resting her chin there.

Sam: “You can come in—if you’re not afraid of steam and bubbles.”

The door creaked open. You stepped inside, eyes averting like a perfect gentleman.

Josh: “I brought you some tea,”holding out a steaming mug.

Josh: “Chamomile. I figured… I dunno, thought you might like something warm. Aside from the boiling water you’re sitting in.”

Sam took the mug with a grateful grin. “Thanks. That’s… actually really sweet.”

You sat on the tiled edge of the tub, careful not to look directly at her. The glow of the sconces behind him turned the room golden. A softness in your face told her you wasn’t trying to be funny tonight. You looked—earnest. Vulnerable, even.

Sam: "You okay?" she asked, voice quieter.

Josh: “I should be asking you that,” You said. “Everything’s been so weird lately. The house, the power, the way people are acting. I just… needed to see you.”

That made her heartbeat tick faster.

“You always were the only one who stayed steady,” you went on, eyes finally meeting hers. “Even back then. Even when—” you stopped yourself. “Sorry. I shouldn’t dump all this on you while you’re literally naked.”

Sam chuckled, her eyes warm.

Sam: “Josh.”

Josh: “Yeah?”

Sam: “Sit closer.”

You hesitated, then obeyed. She extended one wet hand, fingers brushing yours. The contact was simple. Gentle. But electric.

Sam: “I’m here,” she said. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

The room was silent except for the drip of condensation and the faint sound of her breath, deepening. The shadows no longer felt so sharp.