Page 48 of Twisted Violet (Lovesick Villains #4)

VIOLET

We’re exactly thirty-three minutes into the movie when Rome groans for the fourth time.

“This is a cartoon,” he mutters, arms crossed like he’s gearing up for war.

“It’s an animated movie with incredible emotional depth,” I say, stealing a handful of popcorn from Dallas’ lap.

Niko tilts his head from the corner of the couch. “They’re fighting demons… with choreography.”

“That’s the point,” Dallas and I say in unison.

Rome sighs again, like he’s hoping we’ll feel sorry for him and turn it off.

Spoiler Alert: We won’t.

“You agreed to movie night,” Dallas says, shoving a pillow under his head. “That means democracy. You were outvoted.”

Niko mumbles something under his breath. I don’t catch all of it, but I’m pretty sure it alludes to emotional manipulation.

I sink deeper into the couch as the movie plays on with a blanket tucked around my legs.

Ollie is out cold, snoring between my feet like a weighted pillow with attitude.

Rome is sitting rigidly at one end of the couch, jaw clenched, trying not to look interested, as he taps his feet to the music.

And Niko is lounging against the armrest, hood up like that’ll protect him from the heartbreak to come.

It won’t.

Because we’re almost there.

Dallas catches my eye and grins.

I grin back.

They have no idea what’s about to hit them.

And then…

It happens.

Jinu steps in front of the Demon King’s fire.

He apologizes to Rumi for betraying her trust, and he gives her his soul.

The light explodes.

His body disappears into a plume of soft blue smoke and glitter.

And Rumi stares in horror at the space he left behind.

There’s a beat of silence.

Then.

Sniff.

Rome shifts in his seat like it’s suddenly too small.

Niko presses his thumb to the corner of his eye, jaw tight.

Dallas nudges my foot beneath the blanket.

I bury my face in my sleeve to keep from laughing.

“You guys good?” I ask, voice laced with fake innocence.

“I’m fine,” Rome says too fast, clearing his throat.

Niko doesn’t even look over. “It’s just... well animated.”

“Right,” I whisper. “Totally.”

The rest of the movie plays on, and we all fall quiet as the credits roll, upbeat music swelling in the background .

Ollie sighs deeply, shifting just enough to smother the remote under his chunky body.

Dallas reaches under him to fish out the remote, grumbling like it’s a hostage negotiation. Rome finally settles back into the cushions, arms crossed, but he doesn’t move away when I lean into him. And Niko grabs the remote and starts the movie over again without saying a word.

The room is warm and soft and cluttered with half-eaten snacks and mismatched socks and the quiet kind of peace that used to feel like a fantasy.

My guys, pretending not to cry over an animated K-pop movie. Me, pretending not to love them even more for it.

This ridiculous, beautiful mess. It’s ours. And this time, I don’t feel like I have to earn it.

I just get to keep it.

Forever.