From the start (Joel Miller x Reader) (EDITED)

Chapter 2.

The door to the bedroom creaked softly as you stepped inside. A low amber glow spilled across the wood-paneled walls from a lone bedside lamp. The bed—quaint, rustic, and far too narrow for comfort—sat in the center, dressed in flannel sheets that smelled faintly of cedar. You hesitated at the threshold, anxiety pooling in your chest like cool rainwater. This wasn't how you imagined your second date unfolding—not in a cabin with Dani's extended family, and certainly not in a shared bed.

Dani was already lounging on the mattress, scrolling through his phone like the night hadn't been a social ambush. "You coming?" he asked casually, patting the space beside him.

You offered a tight smile, toes flexing against the braided rug. "Yeah... just need a second."

You moved slowly, sitting at the edge of the bed. The fireplace in the next room crackled faintly, its warmth a muffled echo through the wall. You crawled under the sheets, careful to keep a few inches of space between your body and Dani's.

For a while, there was silence. You stared at the ceiling, tracing the wooden beams with your eyes.

Then, a shuffle of movement. Dani scooted closer, slipping an arm around your waist. His breath brushed your shoulder.

You flinched, gently, but noticeably.

"Dani," you said quietly, turning to face him. "Can we talk?"

He blinked, brows knitting slightly. "Talk? About what?"

You exhaled. "About tonight. About all of this. Meeting your whole family on our second date? Sharing a bed?" You searched his eyes for recognition. "It's... a lot."

His arm dropped away. He leaned on one elbow, the shadows carving lines into his face. "I thought you'd be fine with it. You're always so composed."

"I can be composed and still feel blindsided," you said. "It's not that I didn't enjoy meeting your family... well, Sarah and Joel, anyway. But I wasn't prepared for it. And sharing a bed? That's intimate, Dani. I'm not ready."

He let out a short breath—half sigh, half scoff. "It's just a bed. You don't have to make everything into a big deal."

You sat up slightly, heart tightening. "I'm not making a big deal. I'm trying to be honest with you. If we're going to keep seeing each other, we need to communicate about what we're comfortable with."

Dani turned away, lying flat again. "Fine. I'll keep that in mind."

The weight of his tone pressed against your chest like a stone. You turned your back to him, staring into the dimness. It was going to be a long night.

Hours passed. Sleep eluded you. You tossed gently beneath the covers, Dani's light snoring providing a rhythmic but irritating background. Your throat felt dry, your head foggy. You needed water.

Quietly, you slipped out of bed, tiptoeing across the creaky floorboards. The cabin was hushed, save for the whispering wind outside. Moonlight filtered through the windows, casting silver pools on the floor.

You reached the kitchen and grabbed a glass from the counter. The water was cold and refreshing, and you leaned against the sink, savoring the silence.

Then—rustling. A creak from the living room.

Your heart jumped. You squinted toward the couch, barely making out a shape—a figure stirring beneath a blanket. Instinct kicked in before thought.

Without thinking, you tossed the water from your glass in their direction, the liquid splashing over them. They jolted awake, sputtering in surprise.