Scream One Shot
With a murdered running rampant in Woodsboro, you were terrified, but maybe your fear came a lot more from the fact that your best friend, Dewey, was so worried about you. Normally he was the one to calm your nerves, to make you feel better if there had been a crime in town, but with this strain of murders there was too much of a risk for even him to try and settle your nerves. He didn't know who would be targeted next and with you being a single woman living alone, he didn't want to take the risk of leaving you as a sitting duck.
It was less of an offer for you to stay with him, but more of him insisting. He had turned up at your door, and within the hour you had packed up everything you would need for a few days and back at the home he shared with his mum and younger sister. Having been friends for a few years, you knew them both and they welcomed you into the Riley home without a second thought.
He led you straight up to his room, the night already getting late and both of you needing to rest before you had to head into work tomorrow.
"You can have my bed, I'll set up on the sofa," he said, rubbing his arm to distract himself from the fact you'd be spending the night in his bed.
Although you had been friends for years, it was obvious to anyone who saw you that you both had stronger feelings than those of friendship, the only ones who couldn't see it was the two of you. Maybe that's why he was more concerned for you than most people in his life. You weren't just his best friend but the girl who he had been in love with since high school.
"Don't be daft," you stated. "I'm not kicking you out of your own bed."
"I can't let you sleep on the sofa," he retorted.
You shrugged your shoulders. "Well then I guess you've answered that predicament, we both take the bed."
His mouth instantly went dry. He had to remind himself that you were both adults and that this didn't mean anything, but the high school crush was starting to fog his brain and leave his hands clammy.
"Are you sure?" He asked, his voice raising an octave. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable."
You rolled your eyes at him. "You could never make me uncomfortable, Dewey."
~*~
Written by Charlotte.