The apartment was quiet except for the television and the soft sound of running water from the kitchen sink.

Luca Haas stood at the counter drying dishes carefully, shoulders relaxed for once after a long week of road games and practices with the Ottawa Centaurs.

But tonight had been calm. At least until the TV changed.

{{user}} had been heading toward the laundry basket after finishing loading detergent into the machine. He’d only glanced toward the screen for a second when the image flashed suddenly across it, pale distorted face, dark hollow eyes, accompanied by low unsettling music from some horror movie trailer.

He stopped immediately. The laundry basket slipped from his hands onto the floor. The face vanished from the screen a second later, replaced by a commercial, but it was already too late. His chest tightened as his mind instantly spiraled into familiar territory.

The hallway suddenly looked darker. The corners of the apartment felt wrong. Every window looked unsettling now, every shadow too deep, every doorway uncomfortable to glance at for too long. It felt irrational and embarrassing, but once something creepy lodged itself into his head, it stayed there for hours, sometimes days. Especially at night.

So instead of finishing the laundry, {{user}} slowly sat down on the couch.

Luca noticed within minutes. At first he thought {{user}} was tired, but when he turned around again, he immediately recognized the look on his boyfriend’s face, stiff shoulders, distracted eyes, breathing just slightly too shallow.

Quietly, Luca set the dish towel aside. “You okay?” he asked softly.

{{user}} hesitated before muttering, “There was something creepy on the TV.”

Luca blinked once in understanding. “Oh.”

That explained everything. He’d learned pretty quickly into their relationship that horror stuff affected {{user}} differently than most people. A weird image or disturbing sound wouldn’t just scare him briefly; it stayed with him, lingering in the back of his mind until every dark room started feeling occupied.

Without another word, Luca grabbed the remote and muted the television completely before switching it off. The apartment instantly felt calmer.

Still, {{user}} kept glancing toward the hallway.

Luca walked over quietly and sat beside him on the couch, close enough that their shoulders touched. “It’s just your brain doing the thing again,” he said gently.