The theater was darker than expected.
Not scary dark.
Just… quiet-dark.
The kind where everything feels a little more real than it should.
I stood in front of the snack counter for way too long.
"…Just pick something," I muttered to myself.
Then grabbed—
Chocolate.
A drink.
Paused.
Then grabbed another drink.
Because apparently I didn't know how to function normally anymore.
When I got back—
she was already seated.
Of course she was.
Lalita didn't wait for people.
People caught up to her.
I walked over, trying not to look like I was overthinking every step.
Failed.
Completely.
"…Here," I said, handing her the chocolate and drink.
She glanced at them.
Then at me.
"Chocolate?"
"…You look like you'd judge me if I got anything else."
She smirked.
"That's accurate."
"Yeah, I figured."
She took it.
Casual.
Like it was expected.
Like I didn't just spend five minutes debating snacks like it was a life decision.
I sat down beside her.
Seat slightly too close.
Not enough to move away.
Too much to ignore.
The lights dimmed more.
The screen flickered.
Previews started.
Then—
behind me—
"Good choice."
I didn't turn.
"…You're here."
"Obviously."
Niran dropped into the seat behind me like he bought a ticket.
Like this was normal.
Like he wasn't dead.
I leaned back slightly.
"…You couldn't sit somewhere else?"
"No."
"Why?"
"I want commentary privileges."
"Denied."
"I don't accept that."
I exhaled.
Then looked at the screen.
Then—
side glance.
Lalita.
She sat like she owned the seat.
Back straight.
Arms relaxed.
Eyes focused.
Sharp.
Like she was watching the movie before it even started.
Then—
I looked at myself.
Reflection faint on the dark screen.
Hoodie slightly oversized.
Posture… not great.
Soft.
Too soft.
"…Wow," I muttered quietly.
Niran leaned forward slightly.
"Wow what."
"…We look like we got switched."
He paused.
"Explain."
I tilted my head slightly toward Lalita.
"…She looks like the main character."
"She is."
"And I look like… background support."
Niran stared at the back of my head.
"…You're joking."
"I'm not."
"You are."
"I'm not."
"You're actually stupid."
"That's rude."
"It's accurate."
He leaned closer.
Voice lower now.
Annoyed.
"You don't look soft in a bad way."
I blinked slightly.
"…What?"
"You look…" he paused.
Then, like it physically hurt him—
"Approachable."
I turned slightly.
"…That's your compliment?"
"Take it or leave it."
"…That's not even good."
"It's better than what you said."
He leaned back slightly.
Still annoyed.
"You're the kind of person people feel safe around."
I froze.
Just a little.
"And she's the kind people hesitate around," he added.
"Sharp. Controlled. Hard to read."
I glanced at her again.
Then back forward.
"…That sounds cooler."
"It sounds lonely."
I didn't answer.
He clicked his tongue.
"You insult yourself too much."
"…I don't."
"You do."
"I don't."
"You literally just did."
"…That doesn't count."
"It does."
A pause.
Then quieter—
"You're fine the way you are."
I blinked.
"…You sound like a motivational speaker."
"I regret saying anything."
"Good."
Beside me—
Lalita suddenly moved slightly.
Then—
"Shh."
We both went quiet immediately.
"The movie's starting," she added.
Without even looking at me.
I straightened slightly.
"…Sorry."
"You're loud," she said.
Behind me—
Niran whispered—
"He's always loud."
I resisted the urge to elbow air.
The screen lit up fully.
Sound filled the room.
The movie started.
The screen went quiet.
Too quiet.
The kind that presses against your ears.
Rain.
A hallway.
The girl walking again.
Slower.
Dragging.
"…Okay, this is the part," Lalita muttered, eyes locked on the screen.
"I told you—predictable," I whispered.
"You said that last time."
"I was right."
"You were lucky."
Behind me—
Niran shifted closer.
Not loud.
Just enough.
Close enough that I could feel it.
"She's about to turn."
"I know."
"She's going to—"
"I know."
"You don't know."
"I do."
"You don't."
"I literally—"
Black screen.
Dead silence.
No music.
No breath.
My fingers stilled.
"…Wait."
A whisper.
Thin.
Crawling through the speakers.
Lalita leaned into me.
"…Why is it so quiet…"
"…It's building tension."
"…I don't like it."
"…You said you liked horror."
"I like it from a distance."
"…We are at a distance."
"…This is not far enough."
A shadow—
right behind the girl—
too fast—
too wrong—
"…Okay—" I started—
BANG.
The ghost slammed into the screen—
screaming—
loud—
violent—
too close—
I flinched.
Hard.
Shoulders jerking back—
breath snapping—
heart slamming against my ribs—
And instinct—
sharp—
instant—
I grabbed.
Warm.
Solid.
Fingers locking without thinking—
At the same time—
another grip—
tight—
Lalita.
Half a second.
Still.
My brain caught up.
Too slow.
I wasn't holding her.
I was holding—
"…Niran?"
He blinked.
Eyes wide for a second—
just a second—
before something steadier slid in.
His hand in mine.
Firm.
Real.
Lalita's grip tightened on my arm.
"…Oh my God—"
"…Yeah—"
"…That was not funny—"
"…Not at all—"
But I wasn't looking at her.
I was looking at him.
Close.
Too close.
His hair had fallen forward slightly—
dark strands brushing his forehead—
just enough to shadow his eyes—
And his eyes—
On me.
Not moving.
"…You grabbed me," he said.
Low.
Too calm.
"…You were closer."
"…I was behind you."
"…Exactly."
"…That doesn't make sense."
"…It made sense to your body."
His thumb shifted—
barely—
against my hand.
Not pulling away.
Not yet.
My breath hitched.
Just a little.
"…Wow," he murmured.
"…What?"
"Instinct."
His gaze didn't break.
Not even for a second.
"…Shut up."
Lalita finally let go of me—
exhaling hard.
"…Okay… that actually got me."
"…Same."
She glanced at me.
Then down.
Then back up.
"…You jumped."
"…I did not."
"You did."
"…A little."
"…You almost died."
"I'm alive."
"Barely."
I let go of his hand.
Too fast.
Too sharp.
Like it burned.
His fingers lingered a fraction longer—
before falling away.
He noticed.
Of course he did.
"…You let go quick," he said quietly.
"…The movie's over that part."
"…Right."
But his eyes stayed on me.
A second too long.
I looked away first.
The rest of the movie played.
Noise.
Movement.
People reacting.
I didn't hear any of it.
Because my mind—
kept replaying—
That moment.
The way I reached.
The way he didn't pull away.
The way he looked at me.
Lights on.
Too bright.
Too normal.
People stood.
Stretching.
Talking.
Laughing.
Lalita rolled her shoulders.
"…That was good."
"…Yeah."
"You weren't as brave as you thought."
"…I was fine."
"You grabbed something."
"…I reacted."
"…To what?"
"…Fear."
"…Wow."
"…Shut up."
She smirked—
already moving toward the exit.
"…Come on."
I followed.
Slow.
Beside me—
Niran.
Quiet.
Too quiet.
We stepped outside.
Cool air hitting all at once.
The night calm.
Still.
For a second—
no one spoke.
Lalita stretched.
"…I'm hungry."
"…Of course you are."
"…You're not?"
"…I am."
"…Good. You're buying."
"…What?"
"You existed next to me during trauma."
"…That's not a crime."
"It is tonight."
She walked ahead—
not even checking if we followed.
I slowed slightly.
Niran didn't.
He matched my pace.
Like it was automatic.
"…You're quiet," I said.
"…Thinking."
"…About what?"
He looked at me.
Properly this time.
And held it.
Not a glance.
Not quick.
A long—
steady—
unmoving look.
My breath caught again.
Annoying.
A strand of my hair shifted with the breeze—
brushing my cheek—
I pushed it back—
but his eyes tracked the movement.
Didn't miss it.
"…Nothing," he said.
"…That's a lie."
"…It is."
I exhaled.
"…Say it."
A pause.
Not long.
But enough.
"…You reached for me."
My chest tightened.
Just slightly.
"…It was instinct."
"I know."
"…Don't make it weird."
"I'm not."
"…You are."
"…A little."
I rolled my eyes.
Looked ahead—
Lalita stood there—
arms crossed—
waiting.
"…Come on," she called. "Slow."
"…Coming."
I started walking again.
Between them.
Lalita ahead—
all noise and movement—
Niran beside me—
quiet—
watching—
And I could feel it.
Even without looking.
That same gaze. Still on me.
And somehow—
that felt worse than the jump scare.