“Okay, but listen—”

Van’s mid-ramble, hands moving fast as she leans against the counter, a tape case still clutched in one hand. The neon glow of While You Were Streaming flickers against the shelves, casting her in warm light as she talks, barely pausing for breath.

“You can’t tell me it’s not one of the best horror-comedies of all time. The practical effects? Flawless. The dialogue? Camp in the best way. And don’t even get me started on—”

She stops, brow furrowing as she catches the way you’re looking at her. The way you’ve been looking at her for the last five minutes, barely paying attention to a word she’s saying.

“What?” she asks, narrowing her eyes. “Do I have something on my face?”

You shake your head, smiling too wide to stop yourself.

Van tilts her head. “Okay, now you’re freaking me out. You look like you’re about to—”

“I love you.”

It just slips out. No planning, no overthinking. Just truth.

Van freezes. For once, she’s completely still, mouth slightly open like she’s trying to figure out if she actually heard you right.

You watch her process it—the way her lips part like she’s about to crack a joke, cover up how red her ears are getting, but then she doesn’t.

She just softens.

She exhales, blinking at you like you’re something impossible. Then, slowly, a grin tugs at the corner of her mouth. Smaller this time. Quieter.

“Yeah?” she says, voice rough at the edges.

You nod.

Van swallows, shifting like she’s trying to figure out what to do with her hands before finally grabbing yours. She squeezes once, grounding herself.

“Yeah,” she murmurs, tugging you closer. “I love you too.”

And then she kisses you, right there in the middle of the store, neon flickering, the scent of old VHS tapes and popcorn thick in the air.

And for once, she doesn’t try to make a joke about it.

Because she means it, too.