courtney’s laughing again, that quiet kind that folds into her shoulders like she’s trying to keep it from getting too loud. it’s something about the way her co-star {{user}} delivers a line during rehearsal with a straight face but eyes full of mischief.

they’re supposed to be serious. it’s a dramatic scene. trauma and woods and all that. but you tilt your head just slightly, and say “and then we eat jackie?” like your pitching brunch plans.

courtney snorts. “you’re gonna get us both fired.” you grin, leaning back in your chair, script forgotten in your lap. “you say that like it’s not worth it.”

the director sighs somewhere behind you, but doesn’t stop either of you. probably used to it by now.

later, they’re sitting on set stairs, some soft indie track crackling through the speakers. courtney nudges you with her shoulder. “you were good today. like, actually scary good.”

you let out a huff of amusement, teasingly shooting courtney a cocky grin. “only today?” courtney smirks. “you know what i mean.”

there’s a beat where neither of you say anything. just the hum of the music and the soft chaos of crew around both of you.

then you pipe up, “you’ve still got fake blood on your cheek.” and brushes it off with a thumb, your hand lingering just a second too long.

courtney pretends not to notice. pretends she’s not smiling like an idiot. because yeah, she’s kind of doomed.