Camp usually buzzed with noise, even at night — distant bickering from cabins, Nikki yelling about a bug she found, Neil begging someone to stop touching his inventions. But tonight? Tonight the entire camp seemed to hold its breath.

The storm had rolled in fast. One moment the sky was just cloudy, the next it cracked open with a deafening blast that shook the windows of every cabin. Rain hammered the roofs, wind howled through the trees, and lightning split the sky with violent white claws.

You were sitting on your bunk, half awake, listening to the thunder rumble when the door to your cabin burst open.

Max stood there — soaked, breathing sharply, eyes wide in a way you’d never seen before. Max, who insulted bears, mocked cultists, and walked into danger like it bored him — he looked… shaken.

Another thunderclap hit, louder than the last. And that’s all it took.

He practically flinched out of his skin, scrambled across the cabin, and grabbed onto you without thinking — clutching your arm, burying his face near your shoulder, trembling in a way he would usually rather die than admit.

For a second, you just stared, frozen. Max? Max, of all people?

He squeezed his eyes shut, muttering under his breath, “I swear to god if you tell anyone—” Before another flash lit up the cabin and the resulting boom made him cling tighter, fingers digging into your sleeve.

He was terrified. Actually terrified.

And the shock hit you like a brick — because no one at camp had ever seen him afraid of anything.

The storm roared outside. Inside, Max stayed pressed against you, shaking slightly, trying and failing to hide it.

“…Just—just shut up and let me stay here until it’s over,” he muttered, voice thin, trying desperately to rebuild his usual attitude but unable to stop holding onto you for dear life.