Chapter 8 – Movie Night

Friday night wrapped the city in a soft glow, neon lights shimmering in puddles from the afternoon rain. Aya’s apartment was warm and inviting, the faint hum of the heater filling the cozy silence as Haru folded the last of her papers.

“You look like your brain’s about to explode,” Aya remarked from the kitchen, rummaging in a cabinet.

Haru groaned, dropping her pen. “If I grade one more half-written essay, I might.”

Aya emerged with a smug grin, holding up a bag of popcorn. “Then stop. It’s Friday. Movie night?”

Haru blinked. “Movie night?”

“Yeah,” Aya said casually, tossing the bag into the microwave. “My cure for burnout: bad jokes, good snacks, zero stress. You in?”

Haru hesitated—then nodded. She could use a break. “Sure… but you pick the movie.”

Aya chuckled. “No way. Guest chooses. House rule.”

---

Twenty Minutes Later

Haru sat cross-legged on the couch, scrolling through the streaming menu. Aya lounged beside her, arm draped casually over the backrest, so close that Haru could feel the heat radiating off her skin.

Finally, Haru clicked on a lighthearted rom-com. Aya raised an eyebrow, smirk tugging at her lips.

“A romantic comedy, huh?” Aya teased, leaning closer. “Trying to tell me something, newbie?”

Haru nearly dropped the remote. “N-No! It just looked fun!”

Aya chuckled low in her throat, that dangerous little sound that always sent shivers down Haru’s spine. “Relax. I’m just teasing.”

Haru’s cheeks burned as she jabbed the play button, praying the darkness of the living room would hide her blush.

---

The movie began, cheerful music filling the room. Aya propped her feet on the coffee table, bowl of popcorn balanced on her lap. Haru tried to focus on the screen, but every rustle of popcorn, every brush of Aya’s fingers against hers when she reached into the bowl made her pulse race faster.

Halfway through, Aya made an exaggerated groan during a cheesy kiss scene. “God, who writes these lines?”

Haru giggled despite herself. “It’s romantic!”

“It’s cringe,” Aya countered, flicking a popcorn kernel at her.

Haru gasped. “Did you just—?!” She grabbed a handful and retaliated, launching kernels across the couch. Aya laughed, ducking as a piece bounced off her shoulder.

“Oh, it’s war now,” Aya declared, snatching a pillow for cover.

The next thirty seconds were chaos—popcorn flying, laughter echoing, Haru shrieking when Aya grabbed a handful and dropped it over her head like confetti.

“You’re such a child!” Haru cried, grabbing the remote to pause the movie—except her fingers fumbled, sending the remote tumbling between the cushions.

“Nice going,” Aya teased, reaching down to grab it. Haru dove for it at the same time.

And that’s when disaster struck.

Their hands collided. Haru lost her balance, momentum carrying her forward—straight into Aya’s lap.

---

For a heartbeat, the world froze.

Haru was straddling Aya, palms pressed against her chest for balance. Aya’s eyes widened slightly, then softened into something unreadable, dark and deep as ink.

The air grew thick, heavy with unspoken things. Haru’s breath came shallow, her heart slamming against her ribs like a drumline.

Aya didn’t move. Didn’t smirk. Just stared, her gaze flicking from Haru’s eyes to her lips and back again.

Haru’s fingers curled against Aya’s shirt without thinking. Move, Haru. Say something. Anything. But her throat was dry, her brain static.

Aya’s voice, when it came, was low and warm, curling around her like smoke. “You always fall for me, don’t you?”

Haru’s breath hitched. “I—I didn’t—”

And then—

Ring. Ring.

Aya’s phone buzzed on the table, shattering the moment like glass. Aya exhaled softly, breaking eye contact as she reached for it. Haru scrambled off her lap so fast she nearly toppled off the couch.

“Saved by the bell,” Aya murmured, answering the call with infuriating calm while Haru sat on the opposite cushion, face on fire, heart still trying to escape her chest.

---

Later That Night

Haru lay in bed, staring at the ceiling in the dark, every second replaying like a film reel: Aya’s steady gaze. That teasing whisper. The almost… something in the air.

She pressed a pillow over her face and groaned. Why couldn’t I move? Why couldn’t I breathe? And why—

Her fingers curled against the sheets, remembering the warmth of Aya’s body under her hands.

—why do I want to feel that again?

Aya’s phone call might have broken the moment, but the way her eyes lingered before answering? That would keep Haru awake all night.