"Gentleness is not weakness. It's the bravest kind of strength"
The next night felt strangely peaceful, considering everything that had happened. Maybe it was the dim lights, or the soft blanket covering both me and Grey, or the fact that—for once—we weren't running from anyone. We were on the couch, legs brushing, snacks scattered carelessly across the coffee table.
The movie's opening credits rolled.
Grey stared at the screen, expression flat as a board.
I already knew what was coming.
"Are you serious?" he muttered. "Twilight? Out of every movie on this planet—every masterpiece ever directed—we're watching... this?"
I snorted. "You're being subjective."
"I'm being sane," he corrected, pointing at the screen as Edward Cullen appeared. "Look at this guy. He looks like he hasn't seen sunlight in fifteen years."
"He's a vampire," I reminded him, leaning back against the cushions.
"That doesn't excuse the hair," he said.
I slapped his arm lightly. "Grey! The whole concept is cool."
He turned to me with the slowest, most judgmental eyebrow raise I had ever seen.
"Of course, you think that," he said dramatically. "I'm dating a woman who willingly chooses to watch Zootopia over The Conjuring. I am not shocked."
"Hey!" I gasped, nudging him. "I can't handle scary movies. And Zootopia is amazing, thank you very much."
"Sure," he said, pretending to be unconvinced. "Talking animals is way better than actual horror. Got it."
I rolled my eyes. "Twilight isn't good, but it's not bad either."
"It is absolutely bad," he said instantly.
I shoved a handful of popcorn at him. "Stop whining. This was decided fairly. We literally typed movie titles into an online spin-wheel and it landed on Twilight. Democracy won."
"Democracy betrayed me," he deadpanned.
I burst out laughing.
The movie went on, and Grey's running commentary only got worse.
When Edward stopped the car with his hand:
Grey leaned forward, horrified. "Oh, wow. So, he's fast AND sparkly? What a combo."
When Bella walked into the biology lab and Edward acted weirdly:
Grey clutched a pillow like it personally offended him. "Why is he reacting like she's a human skunk?"
I broke into such loud laughter I almost spilled the grape juice.
But then came the scene where Edward told Bella to stay away from him—and she obviously didn't.
Grey groaned loudly. "Why are they dramatic for no reason? If they communicated like normal humans—"
"They're teenagers," I reminded him.
He pointed at the screen. "Teenagers do not stalk each other through windows!"
I opened my mouth to argue but paused.
Okay, he had me there.
A few minutes later, Edward picked Bella up and flew through the forest.
Grey held up a throw pillow like it was a protest sign. "No. Absolutely not."
I laughed so hard my sides hurt. He glared at me with mock disappointment.
"What," I wheezed, wiping tears from my eyes, "do you want from them? They're in love."
"This isn't love," he declared. "This is cardio."
"Grey!"
He was laughing now—quiet, warm, genuine. The kind of laugh that made his eyes crease slightly at the corners. I loved that laugh.
When the movie finally ended, Grey shot up like he'd been released from prison. "Finally! Freedom!"
"Oh my god," I groaned, hitting him with a pillow.
He caught it easily, grinning. "Next time, we're watching Venom."
"Maybe."
"No," he said firmly. "Not maybe. It's happening. I suffered tonight, so I deserve it."
I crossed my arms. "You did not suffer."
He looked at me with the most dramatic face imaginable. "Sophie. I watched two hours of a vampire sparkling like a disco ball in daylight being in love with a dumb girl"
I burst out laughing again and leaned against him, resting my head on his shoulder.
He looked down at me, the teasing fading into something gentler. Softer.
"Fine," he murmured. "Maybe it wasn't that bad."
I smiled. "See? Subjective."
He rolled his eyes but let his cheek rest lightly against my head.
Twilight still played in the background, faint music echoing through the room.
And for the first time in a very, very long time... everything felt normal.
Warm.
Safe.
Us.