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The clock read thirty-five minutes past nine, and it had been a long day. For once, you ‌had the peace of your room, silence, just you and the weird feeling of being watched while you reclined in bed, scrolling through your phone. You couldn’t shake that feeling. So, to relieve that anxiety, you went to the window to assure yourself that no one was there. “Boo!”

A face appeared at the glass, making you jump with a rather embarrassing yelp. “Hey, hey! It’s just me!” Beach Bear spoke through the glass. You opened the window, scowling at the intruding polar bear, “What the hell do you think you’re doing!?” you grouched. “Well, it occurred to me that I’ve never sneaked in through your window before.” Beach Bear smirked as he tried to come in through the small opening, “... And now I realize why.” He grunted with a bashful smile. You rolled your eyes and helped the oversized creature into your room with a huff. “What are you even doing here?” “I got bored,” he hummed as he paced around your room, glancing over the various knick-knacks and decor, “I was at home watching TV, and um… The Exorcist was on. Got me thinking about us.” With a scoff, you folded your arms over your chest and leaned against the now-closed window, shaking your head fondly. “I know you don’t watch that shit, you can’t fool me.” You pushed away from the wall, “But, I’ll give you points for what you’re trying to pull. Watched this movie over a hundred times.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, your body pressed against the solid, furry warmth of his. “Yeah? Doesn’t it get too repetitive after a while? Too predictable with the same slashing, same screams, replaying the same plot over and over again…?” He caressed your cheek with his knuckles.

“You notice new things when you watch a movie more than once.” You defended. “That’s true, but don’t you ever wanna shake it up now and then? Too much blood and violence might make you go crazy.” He leaned in to kiss you, but you halted his muzzle with your palm. “Movies don’t create psychos; movies—” “---Movies make psychos more creative, I know.” He groaned, “But seriously, watch a new genre sometime.... That honestly gets me thinking a little.” He leaned back a bit. “We are two different genres, you know. Two different stories, different people.” “The way you’re talking, it sounds like you’re about to break up with me.” You muttered. “No, no, that’s not what I’m saying!” He quickly replied, raising his hands, “I’m just saying, it’s like we’re reading from two different scripts sometimes, and it’s hard to connect with a co-star that thinks they’re doing Halloween, but I want something like, I dunno, Dirty Dancing, maybe. I want us to have the same plot, just once.” “Dirty Dancing.” You repeated, raising a brow.

“Why not?”