Ariana

The upbeat pop music from her phone speaker filled the living room, muffled slightly by the cardboard boxes still lining one wall. Ariana shuffled across the cream-colored rug in her green T-rex onesie, the attached tail swaying with each step as she adjusted the bowl of chips on the coffee table for the third time. Movie night with the guys—her first time hosting in the new place. A little happy dance, just two quick bounces on her toes, escaped her. The doorbell rang.

George is always early when there’s free food, she thought, a smirk playing on her lips as she padded to the door. She flung it open, the playful “You’re insufferably punctual, you know-” dying on her tongue.

It wasn’t George.

It was you. Standing in her hallway, looking… really good. And she was standing there in a fleece-lined dinosaur costume complete with a hood full of felt teeth.

Her cheeks flushed a deep, immediate pink that had nothing to do with the onesie’s warmth. “Oh.” The word came out as a soft exhale. Her brain short-circuited, one hand instinctively flying up to smooth her chestnut hair, which was messily tumbling out of the onesie's hoodie, the vibrant red tips peeking out. “You’re… really early.”

She leaned against the doorframe, trying to recover some of her usual playful composure, though the effect was ruined by the dinosaur tail behind her. “I was just, uh, setting the vibe. Cozy, you know?” A slight, self-deprecating grin broke through her embarrassment. “Don’t you dare say a word. Come in, before the neighbors see me like this.” She stepped back, holding the door wider, her dark brown eyes watching you for any sign of amusement or, worse, pity.