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You sit on the couch, watching a horror movie on TV. It was one of the older ones, so it wasn’t scary as it was stupid when the character obviously shouldn’t be checking out the suspicious noise in the other room. You smile, shaking your head, knowing what’s about to happen next. The girl didn’t even bring a weapon with her to check the noise out. And why was she going outside to check? Couldn’t she just look from the window?
You shake your head, ashamed for the girl, as you pop a chip into your mouth. The only lights on are the living room and the kitchen. The curtains are closed, and the night sky is pitch black, creating the perfect atmosphere for your horror movie marathon. The girl in the movie walks back inside her house and closes the door, locking it. You almost laugh again, imagining that the killer was already inside the house, and she should just be running with a phone in her hand trying to get to safety. Even if she fails, at least she tries, right?
There was a slight rattling noise that made you freeze. After a few seconds, you grab the remote and pause the movie, turning around to look at the entrance to the kitchen. You wait there, sinking slightly into the couch, making sure no one could see you, even though no one was there, and all the curtains were shut. You don’t hear anything, but you get up slowly, and quietly. You could have blamed it on the movie, but you didn’t want to be naive. Unlucky for you, you didn’t have any “weapons” close by, so you settled for the remote, which you could easily hit someone with. You tip-toe into the kitchen and peek your head slightly around the corner to look at the back door. The blinds were closed, but the porch light was on. You couldn’t see the shadow of anyone, and you stood there, looking around your corners, listening for another noise.
There was silence. Before you walk out, you glance at the door handle and see the little lock in the middle of the knob is turned a little. It was still securely locked, there was a deadbolt on the front and back door, but the little knob also had one of those twisting locks. You want to believe someone did that, but you also know that you’ve seen that door enough times to know that it’s locked and that it usually twists at a slightly weird angle. Your heart races as you continue to stare at the lock, debating on whether or not you should call someone. You want to be rational, and not knowing for sure if someone was there wasn’t exactly comforting. But you wouldn’t call the cops just because you watched a horror movie, and heard a noise that came from outside and could have been from literally anything from an animal, to someone getting out of their car. But you know what a car door sounds like when it opens and shuts, and that noise was definitely not it. And what animal would get that close to your door, unless it was starving or curious? That didn’t usually happen.
You bite the inside of your cheek lightly, as you decide to slowly stalk into the kitchen. You crouch down, letting the island in the middle cover your body, just in case someone is watching. You press play on the movie from the other room, but the remote doesn’t work. You lean back over towards the entrance, getting just enough room to see the TV. You press play again, trying to get the sensor to connect, and it does. Just in case someone was here, you could turn the TV on, making them think you were still distracted, when in reality you were preparing yourself for the worst.
Are you paranoid? A little. It’s dark out, and it's almost midnight. You know you’re fine, you live in a pretty nice neighborhood. The only crime that really happened was when your neighbor had an altercation with another, and the cops were called, and the assholes moved out two weeks later. Other than that, nothing has happened. You walk towards a counter by the stove, and stand up quickly, grabbing one of the bigger knives. As if you wouldn’t be armed one way or another. Even if no one was there, you were going to at least try and defend yourself. And you sure as hell are not going to trip and fall like some dumb…
Creak.
Your heart drops. You freeze. You hate that your first reaction is to freeze. Why couldn’t you be ready to fight or run? Running is a better option, but freezing also allows you to listen more carefully, and not move just in case you’d make a noise, but it also leaves you more vulnerable. It frustrates you so much that you gain the courage to turn around and look across the counter in the middle of the kitchen. You don’t see anything, nor do you hear anything. But the house was dark all over except for the kitchen and living room. You grip the knife and quietly walk back towards the living room, the noise from the TV getting increasingly louder as you get closer to it. You tip-toe into the carpeted room, most of the ground absorbing the sound of your quiet steps. You look at the front door, but can’t notice any difference. You stalk closer to it, once again looking around every corner. You look through the peephole and see nothing. Not even the guy who walks his dog late at night. You try to take a deep breath, but it doesn’t reach your chest. You look behind you, towards the stairs, suddenly fearful of the dark abyss luring you in. You feel your hands shake and quickly get away from the stairs.
You hear a scream and gasp audibly as your head whips around to look at the TV. You feel nauseous, only realizing that the girl on the screen screamed because the killer jumped out at her. You briefly imagine yourself in that situation. You, stuck, in a house alone, a killer, and no one to hear your screams. But, that wasn’t reality. Yes, you were alone in the house, but you weren’t stuck in some outback area where it takes three minutes to run to the next nearby house. You don’t live on a farm so you won’t get dragged into a field. There probably wasn’t a killer in the house, and if there was, your neighbors are always up late at night, as one of them has a night job. They would hear you scream. Thinking that gives you comfort, knowing that if you did die, it wouldn’t be in vain. There was no way Izuku would let someone get away with that.
You smile slightly at the thought, although morbid. You audibly sigh, and stand up straight. It’s not the first time the house creaked. It is a newer house, but the bones were still someone old, but it was fixed over the years. The wind outside cries and it’s not unusual for a tree to creak. You are going to sit back down when suddenly you hear something fall upstairs. Your heart starts to race again. You start to sweat, and your underarms feel itchy. You feel your lips tremble, and you press them together to try and mitigate the feeling. You look around for your phone but don’t see it. You knew it was somewhere around the couch, you always had it with you. You slowly pick up each couch pillow and look under it but don’t see it. You stick your hand in the crevices of the couch and don’t find it. You look at the coffee table, the only thing there is your bag of chips and a bottle of water. You feel your eyes tear up and clench your teeth.
Where the hell is it?
Forget the phone. You have a landline if you need to use it. You look into the kitchen, where the landline sits by a window. You hear another creak, this time from upstairs. Your mouth drops open, actually thinking someone now might be in the house. You hear crying and look back at the TV. The girl was bleeding, and running outside with a limp down the road. The killer was right behind her. You keep the TV going, not wanting to give away your position, hoping the sound of the TV conceals your movement. You walk past the TV, into the small hallway that leads to a study room. You turn the light on and scan the room. The room was clear, and the window was shut. You walk towards it and check the lock. Luckily, it was.
You walk out of that room and back into the living room. You glance towards the bathroom, the lights are off and it’s pitch black inside. The door was ajar, and that made you more anxious. You shake your head and hesitantly walk closer. You stop, not wanting to get any closer. You throw a pillow that sits on the couch into the room, and the door opens, allowing the light from the living room to illuminate the light-colored tiles. You sigh, and you feel relief fill your body slightly at the sight of your phone. You hear a clunk from upstairs and rush towards the bathroom. You turn the light on and see you left your phone in here. You swiftly snatch your phone off the counter. You mess up typing in the password twice before opening it. The knife was still in your hand, as you watched the dark shadows flood down the stairs. There was a light switch on the bottom, and you could easily turn it on if you walked over there, but you weren’t taking any chances. You go to your contacts and press on Izuku’s number. The number immediately goes to voicemail, and you whine marginally. You feel your eyes become misty, and you stay by the bathroom door.
You heard the front door start to turn, and then a jingle sound. You try to close the bathroom door swiftly and quietly, but the pillow you threw is in the way. You yank it into the bathroom, and it hits the bottom of the bathtub, shaking the glass door that reveals the shower. It falls onto the bamboo mat that rests in front of the bathtub. You run to the shaking glass and place your palm on it, to stop the noise. You then hear the door open roughly, and you run to lock the bathroom door. You open up your phone again, knife in hand, and try calling Izuku again. You turn the volume down a bit, and put the phone so strongly against your ear, that it hurts a little. You hear the familiar sound of his “I’m not at the phone right now,” and you quickly hang up. You look down at the floor and move quickly to the side of the door. You stand closer to the handle of the door, making sure you can lean against it if you have to. You hear the TV being turned off and realize you left the remote on the couch.
It’s not like you needed it anymore. You could have turned the volume all the way up to maybe make it harder for whoever was here to hear you, but it was pointless now. You hear heavy footsteps. They walk slowly around the room, like the person is confused, or they’re looking for something. Someone . You look at the cabinets and debate on whether or not you can fit inside. You have a somewhat lengthy countertop like the ones you’d see in a nice hotel room. The inside was spacious, and there's a good chance you might fit inside. If your life depended on it, you'd find a way. If not, you’d stab the person if they came in, and that’s what you prepared yourself for.
“Babe?” you hear. Your body heats up, and you feel some of your anxiety lift. Izuku was home. You reach for the door handle but freeze when you touch it. Was this someone’s quirk? Can they mimic voices?
You take the chance and open the door, ready to strike. You burst out of the door, and see that it really is Izuku. He is wearing his hero suit and looks surprised to see you, angry with a knife in your hand.
“Umm… Babe–” Izuku starts but you start to cry. His mouth drops open and he makes his way towards you. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.”
“I-Izuku… you– you didn’t answer your phone! Help, please, I think someone is in the house,” you say quietly. You feel his grip on you tighten before he lets go and scans the downstairs area.
“Where?” Izuku whispers, you point up the stairs and he nods. He walks swiftly towards the steps and pauses. He slowly starts to walk up, but you can still hear his footsteps. You walk up to him but he looks back and tells you to stop with his hand. “Stay in the bathroom.”
“But–” you start, but Izuku interrupts.
“Please? I’ll be fine, I don’t want you getting hurt.”
You hesitate briefly, then nod your head, walking back towards the bathroom, and watching Izuku walk upstairs. You close the door and lock it. You stand there, having too much nervous energy to sit down.
Izuku makes it upstairs and looks around. He heads into the guest bedroom first and searches every crevice. He looks at all the windows and doesn’t see any signs of forced entry. He closes the door and moves to the upstairs closet that sits next to the bathroom and doesn’t see anything abnormal. He closes it and walks into the bathroom. Izuku opens each cabinet door but doesn’t see anything abnormal. He checks the cabinet at the bottom and doesn’t see anything other than cleaning supplies. He is about to walk out, then pauses. He rips open the curtain to the shower, but there is no one there. He nods to himself, turns the light off, and closes the door. He slowly creeps towards your shared master bedroom. The door was fully open, and the light was already on. He slowly walks in, looking around the room. The curtains were open, and so was the window. The screen was still there, and it wasn’t ripped or cut open. But that didn’t mean someone didn’t have a quirk that allowed them to phase through objects. Izuku felt his quirk buzz under his skin, tingling in his fingertips, ready to strike whenever there was a sudden movement. He closes the window and locks it. His fist was clenched, and he knew he was ready for anything. The thought of leaving you downstairs alone made him uneasy. He looks towards the balcony and notices it is slightly open.
He feels his heart speed up. He rushes towards the door and opens it fully. There is the sound of an owl flying away, but Izuku can’t see it. He closes it, then looks to his right. He notices the alarm clock has fallen. He scolds himself, remembering that it was teetering on the edge this morning because he rushed out in fear of being late. He picks it up and places it back where it was. There was no one up here, Izuku concludes. His danger sense didn’t go off either, and he knows that it would have immediately if anyone had tried to cause harm. It went off slightly when you were in the bathroom, but it was different, so he wasn’t exactly sure why it had made him feel weird, but it was because you weren’t going to harm him .
Izuku comes back downstairs, and you open the door, recognizing the sound of his footsteps. “There’s no one here, I promise.”
“Are you sure?” You ask, walking towards him, knife still in hand. He smiles softly at you, eyes glistening with care.
“Yeah, I’m positive. My danger sense didn’t go off either, so I’m pretty sure we’re okay,” Izuku explains and you nod your head. You walk towards the couch and place the knife down on the coffee table. Izuku watches as you do so. He wasn’t scared, and he knows you’d never use it against him, but he’s so used to danger he watches on instinct, but there is no fear in his body. His body wasn’t tense and he felt no need to watch for long. You catch his eyes anyway and smile sheepishly.
“Sorry, I was watching a horror movie. I heard some strange noises and just wanted to protect myself,” you explain.
“I understand. I’d probably do the same thing if I was alone.”
“I tried calling you,” you suddenly mention.
Izuku’s eyes furrow and he grabs his phone, trying to turn it on, noticing the battery was dead. He feels something ping in his chest. He knows you're safe, and the area you guys lived in was safe. But knowing that you could have been in danger and he wouldn’t know made him irritated, but not at you. “Shit, sorry! My phone died.” You nod, still looking around and you feel Izuku walk closer. He grabs your shaking hands, eyes delicate, and warm. “Are you alright?”
You nod, not sure if you can trust your voice. You felt safe knowing he was here, and you’d probably be able to defend yourself if you needed to, but knowing he was here made you feel better anyway. You feel Izuku bring you into his arms, and hug you tightly. He rests his head on top of yours, and he rubs your arm lovingly. His other hand brushes through your hair, and he kisses your forehead. You were grateful that he believed you immediately instead of just assuming you were paranoid. This happened once when you were younger, and your parents scolded you for being scared, but that area wasn’t the best and crime happened often. You smile, knowing Izuku will never question your fears. He always supported you, and in return, you always supported him.