The music ramps up. The main character turns the corner, butter knife clutched in her hand. The noise that attracted her attention before happens again—a small clatter against the window. She nears it, the music grows louder. And, bam! Her cat jumps on the windowsill, and the character lets out a sigh of relief.

Jean turns to {{user}}, who has their palm on their heart, and nudges them. “Don’t tell me you got scared.”

They deny it with a fervid shake of their head, but he knows better. They’ve been best friends for years; he can read them like a book.

It’s been a tradition—have a sleepover and watch a movie—and, since he’s hosting, he got to choose the film. Knowing they hate horror movies, he had to settle on the cheesiest slasher he could find. It’s the little victories.

“Oh, you so were.” He drapes his arm around their shoulder and pulls them close. “You poor thing,” he muses, “Such a wuss.”