Face buried in Ysabell's hair, Mort squeezed his eyes shut and hugged her rather desperately. She was laughing.
"That wouldn't kill someone!" she said, eyes locked on the TV, "Not immediately, anyways. It would damn well hurt, but it wouldn't kill him for a couple of hours." She took a sip of her pop conclusively, fingers strumming on Mort's arm.
"Did the scene change yet?" Mort whimpered, loosening his grip slightly. Ysabell sighed.
"Yeah, there's no blood now."
Muscles relaxing, Mort straightened out so he was sitting up again, and his wife gave him a peck on the cheek.
"Sorry, um, i-it just bothers me a little, is all." His face felt rather hot despite his chest being cold with dread, and he tried to hide it by resting his chin on Ysabell's head. She leaned against him, running one of her hands down his arm.
"Gods, it's fine, Mort, you're just normal."
He almost felt better, and then a scream from the TV made him jump and fold back into Ysabell, shivering as the gratuitous sounds of throat slashing echoed in his ears. Ysabell, meanwhile, was giggling at it. At least her voice was a bit soothing.
A couple minutes passed, and then Ysabell nudged him with her shoulder. "Alright, it's done now."
Mort lifted his head up cautiously, taking in the screen to make sure she wasn't messing with him. She wasn't, thankfully.
"If it's scaring you that much, we can just turn it off," Ysabell said, nuzzling into his neck, "I've seen this one before, I know how it ends."
"That's alright, um, you're enjoying it."
"You're sure?"
"I think so."
Ysabell smiled, kissing the tip of his collarbone. "Gods, you're sweet."
A chainsaw roared to life, jerking Mort out of his mildly calmed state. The resulting screams on the TV sent him back to Ysabell's hair, and the crackling of snapping bones brought out some sort of whine from his throat. That scene went on for around ten minutes, during which Mort attempted to collapse in on himself. It wasn't quite working out for him, though, with his wife on his lap, so he ended up just squeezing her like a very scared vice.
"Mortimer, I can turn off the movie," she said, attempting to pry his arm loose enough to breathe.
"I-I'm fine, Yzzie," Mort murmured, pulling his arms off from her and hugging himself. He looked absolutely pathetic.
Shifting a bit, Ysabell lopped her arms around his neck, gently pulling him down to kiss her. He definitely wasn't paying attention, though, so Ysabell moved a bit lower and nipped his throat. She smiled into his neck as he jolted at the sensation.
"It's just a stupid movie, Mort," she purred, feeling rather hot all of a sudden as Mort pulled her up to him.
"Gods, I know, I just like seeing you happy," Mort said, his hands resting on her hips. Ysabell beamed, and they kissed. Things escalated nicely, and Mort was just about feeling pleasant. Then another round of chainsaw noises came from the TV, and Mort panicked.
He caught himself before he'd fully clenched his teeth, but at that point Ysabell had already pulled back, whining. "Alright, that's it," she hissed, pausing to grab the remote and turn the TV off. She ran her finger down her tongue, "It's not bleeding, right?"
"I don't think so," Mort murmured, sheepishly curling bits of her hair around his finger. "Um, sorry about that."
"It's fine, Mort, that's kind of on me," Ysabell laughed nervously, wrapping her arms back around his neck, "Should've just turned the movie off."
"Well, I should've asked you to turn it off," Mort said, his hands sliding back down to her waist.
"Wow, you're right, it is all your fault," Ysabell smirked, eyes staring up at him in a sultry manner. "I guess you'll just have to make it up to me, then."
Mort blinked a couple of times, then his eyes lit up. "Oh, I'll make it up to you, alright," he grinned, kissing her hard.
Thank gods there wasn't a chainsaw that time.