don't get too attached - matt sturniolo

chapter thirteen

“and this movie is supposed to be…scary?” i questioned, tossing a piece of popcorn into my mouth and casting a glance at nick, who currently had his entire head covered in blanket, save for his eyes, which glistened with the television’s reflection and what i assumed to be tears of sheer terror.

“yes!” he squeaked, drawing his covers even tighter around himself. i snorted and shook my head. the plot was senseless drivel, the music sounded like it came from a public domain-necessitated school project, and the effects were drab and uninspired.

needless to say, i was not impressed.

“just wait,” chris piped up, taking a brief pause from guzzling a bottle of cream soda. “i thought this movie was bull at first too, and then it really gets you. you’ll probably scream.”

i lolled my head to the side to glare at him. “i will not.”

“oh yes, you will. do you need me to hold your hand?” he said this with a small lilt to his tone.

“absolutely not.”

“yeah, it’d be kind of hard from all the way over here. and nick will get eaten by the monster if anything should come out of his blanket pile.” nick let out a small squeal at this, and i bit my tongue to stop myself from laughing.

but the urge to chuckle died out when chris said, “guess that means it’s up to you, matt. should the ever courageous (y/n) find herself shaking with fear, you have to take care of her.”

heat rushed to my face and hands, and it took every ounce of restraint not to look over to matt, who had been sitting silently for the entire duration of the film.

and after a pregnant, awkward pause where i struggled to remember how to breathe, he huffed a single laugh.

"not a fucking chance, chris."

i should not have felt as crestfallen as i did, my stomach giving a sick swoop as i shifted uncomfortably.

the movie ramped up, just as chris had said, and i felt the tingling sense of fear sweep over my arms and upper body.

my breathing shortened and quickened, but i tried to keep it quiet, lest chris hear me and poke fun at me.

but when the demon, malformed and covered in its most previous victim's blood, jumped toward the unsuspecting protagonist and attempted to drag them back, i let out a gasp despite myself, and my arm flung out, allowing my hand to settle on-

matt's hand, which was dry but soft, solid and sure underneath my own. i went to take my hand back, but i was slightly shaky from fear, my movements hesitant.

and then i felt the slightest tug, a small sense of restraint, and i saw his fingers enclosed over mine. i shot him a startled look but all i received was a glare that told me plainly to keep my mouth shut.

this was unexpected, and my heart thundered against my chest with the mix of panic and satisfaction.

i sat our the rest of the movie with a heat that left my fingertips buzzing and my mouth dry.