It was just another lazy afternoon that you were spending at Dylan's house, the kind of day you’d spent countless times before.

Your parents were off on a romantic Valentine’s Day date and didn't want you to be home alone. So they had insisted you stay somewhere safe, which -to them- was Dylan's house.

After all you've practically been friends since you've played in sandboxes together and he's the only boy your parents trust you to be around.

You were sprawled out on his bed, aimlessly scrolling through TikTok, while he layed on his side of his bed, also on his phone.

"You’re taking up all the space," he grumbled, tossing a pillow in your direction.

You just threw him a glare before opening a text message from your friends and texting them.

But just as your conversation was getting interesting, your screen dimmed and then went black.

Dead battery.

"No!" you groaned, letting the phone fall to your chest.

"What now?" Dylan asked, not even looking up.

"I need your charger," you said, already spotting it on his nightstand and reaching for it.

"Uh-uh, no way. It's mine." he said, snatching it up first "Get your own."

You ignored him, reaching forward to grab it from his hand. "Dylan, seriously—"

But you froze halfway through your sentence, suddenly aware of how close you were...

Your face hovered just inches from his, your hand still extended toward the charger.

The playful banter faded as the atmosphere shifted into something more tense.

Dylan’s brown eyes locked onto yours, darting down to your lips for the briefest moment before he quickly looked away.

His cheeks flushed faintly in a way you've never seen before...

You didn't notice the way your heart was racing until he spoke, feeling your own cheeks heat up.

"Get off of me." he muttered, but his voice lacked its usual sharpness, almost hesitant.