"You do know these kind of movies don't scare me, right?" You state, crossing your arms across your chest, blowing an annoying strand of long, blonde hair out of your eyes.

Dylan scoffs, placing the popcorn onto your lap and settling into the couch. He slings his arm around you causing you to scoot over closer to him.

"Yeah, okay, Amber, whatever you say," he mumbles in disbelief.

"It's true!" You swiftly defend yourself.

"Says the girl who swore Kermit was a morphed turtle."

"Who gives a frog a beak?!"

"Can't a frog have a deformed nose without being questioned?"

You toss a piece of popcorn at his face saying a swift 'boo' before returning your eyes to the screen.

"Apparently not-"

"Shut up and-"

"Dance with me?" Dylan fills in before you can finish.

"Watch the damn film, will you?"

He raises his arms in feign surrender before turning back to watch the screen.

You both watch as the screen ignites with pictures of an abandoned house.

"This movie is basically screaming predictable and it's only been..." you check your watch, "Ten seconds."

"Oh yeah Miss Scary-Movie-Expert?"

"Yeah! I mean, come on, they willingly go to an abandoned cabin, have a little fun, power goes out, screams, physco with mummy issues pops up, friends die, the blonde hides under the bed, they answer the phone, yada yada, see? PREDICTABLE!"

"Answer the phone?"

"Yes, I mean, your power went out and your pal is missing then suddenly, 'Bring, Bring,' then they have a brain fart and think, 'oh, mum must be calling let's answer the phone!'"

"Did your mum not teach you to answer the phone or is this some previous trauma I don't know about?"

"I'm just saying-"

"Hold that thought."

Dylan stands to his feet and leaves abruptly, leaving you alone in a state of shock on the couch.

"What the hell are you doing, O'Brien?" You yell as you hear him rummaging around the house. "You know, leaving me alone to be a hero is how we all die right?"

After several torturous minutes, Dylan returns, his arms holding every phone in the house. He lets gravity take them to the floor, dropping them into a heap on the ground. You sit there, your brain still processing the scene in front of you, words not being a high priority.

You exchange confused glances between the mangled pile of phone wires on the floor and a proud Dylan standing directly behind them. Dylan follows your gaze to the pile and places his hands on his hips.

"I say we burn them ceremoniously in the backyard."

"We're in LA, we don't even have a bathtub let alone-"

"Can I just have my moment?"

"Sorry, hun," you whisper, suppressing a smile.

Your turquoise eyes meet his hazel ones as your rack your brain for an answer.

"We should wear outfits," you comment.

"Huh?" Dylan raises an eyebrow.

"Facepaint too, every good ceremony needs face paint."

"Facepaint is a no, but I've got boot polish."

He reveals two tins of boot polish, handing one to you. You take it before cracking the lid and raising it in the air.

"To telephone trauma."

Dylan imitates your action before offering a toast of his own. "To neighbours who are going to think we've started a cult."

"Cheers."

Your boot polish collides with his and he cracks a smile.

"Cheers."

A/N SO MY UMDIDDLYUMCHKINS I AM NOT DEAD!  Here is your Imagine Amber, I really hope you like it, I enjoyed writing it.  I don't know much about Horror films, but you could be my boo... ;) Just so you know, I just made that up because...I'm the Sass Master okay I'm done