One day.

Two days, three days. His shoulder healed quite well in that time frame.

Owen wanted to say it again:

"Whoever said editing was easy was either lying or super talented."

He must have watched almost ten hours of tutorials. He hadn't gotten any better either, merely copying snippets of what he thought looked cool and would fit what he and Isabella envisioned.

The number of assets and people he had to credit also took away a lot of time. SNaF was a complex game that had gameplay that hid secret lore and for a semi-casual SNaF fan he required Isabella's counsel on many parts. Even something as simple as differentiating fanart from official order in order to not steal credit took time. Syncing up and adjusting audio. Contemplating the choice of music. Conflicted on what sound effects to use. There was just so much to do.

However, it was all worth it in order to make a twenty minute long theory video.

Without work in the way, Owen was able to sit on his computer for long periods of time. Following said sessions, he would burn out hard.

He sat in the living room, blinking through bloodshot eyes. From the kitchen, the blender whirred to life. Frozen fruits and a volume of milk transformed into a smooth, creamy purple blend. Through the gap in the wall, he watched as the blonde in the golden onesie poured the purple fruity mixture into two tall glasses.

She placed the milkshake on a tray with a flourish and carried the tray to the living room, where Owen relaxed.

"Enjoy!" Ophelia said, her eyes filled with affection. She separated her glass from his and took a sip. Owen soon did the same.

He blinked and drank some more. Although very vicious, he was able to taste all the fruity goodness. "Wait…this actually tastes good," he said, puzzled.

"Yeah, I know right." Ophelia herself was confused. Gulp, gulp, gulp. She quickly drank down half of it. "I like…I don't even know what I changed."

"Usually, it tastes like ice."

"A miracle?"

"A sign," Owen affirmed, smiling.

"Maybe." Ophelia laughed and sat down beside him. "By the way, what are you gonna call the channel? I want to be your first subscriber!'

"A name…" Owen trailed off. "We haven't decided yet."

"How about…the House of SNaF?"

"What if we want to move away from SNaF?"

"Good point. How about…" Ophelia put a finger on her chin, eyes closed as she went deeper into thought. "OwBella?"

"A combination of our names? That's a bit much, I think."

"WonderHeart!"

"Too corny."

"Xxx_gamergod88_xxX?"

"From one side of the spectrum to the other."

"How about Streaming With My Six Girlfriends?"

"Why do I feel like you just broke the fourth wall?"

"Ooh, ooh!" She snapped her fingers. "Proto-Heart!"

"Hm. Not bad." Owen shook the glass in his hands. "I'll tell Isabella about it."

Ophelia crawled to the edge of the couch and leaned over to peer past the wall and into the hall leading to the bathroom. "Is she still taking a bath?"

"You know how she is," Owen said.

"But it's been almost two hours! What if she drowns?"

"Our bathtub is too small to drown in."

"B-but the movie!" Ophelia went right up in his face. "Remember?"

"That the serial killer shoved the girl and her father into the bath water to drown them? Yeah, I do." Unfazed by the close proximity, Owen chuckled and drank the last of his milkshake. "Luckily, neither of us are serial killers."

"That was a good movie though, you have to admit."

"It was."

"We should watch another serial killer movie!" Ophelia exclaimed.

"Should I be worried about serial killers?" Owen asked.

"Hehe. Raaa! Scary!" She raised her arms like a beast and roared at him. Her intimidation factor was reduced by ninety percent due to her onesie. "Die!"

Owen, in a surprising burst of strength, grabbed her wrists and pushed her down onto the cushions. Laughter erupted from both of them, filling the living room with infectious joy.

"Now who's the scary one?" Owen teased, pinning Ophelia with a triumphant smirk.

She wriggled beneath him, giggling uncontrollably.

With a twinkle in his eye, he started tickling Ophelia, unleashing a flurry of laughter. Her attempts to escape only intensified the playful struggle.

"Hehehe! O-okay, hahahaha! I-I won't give up! I'll show you!"

"Sure…" He knew her weakness and adjusted his level of tickling to the max. Slowly but surely, his wiggly fingers travelled down her sides. That was when the blonde exploded and her face went tomato red. His face was less than an inch away from hers and he was able to see every little way her expression brightened up, from the crinkles at the edges of her eyes to the cute dimples on her cheeks.

"Hehehe, stop! I surrender!" Ophelia pleaded between fits of laughter, her eyes sparkling with delight. Her hair sprawled out as her head bounced up one more time. "Hahahaha! Okay, okay! I give! I'm not a serial killer!"

"But we do have one last suspect," Owen said, her warm, ragged breath tickling him. "Isabella Pérez. She's the one who taught you the ways of the serial killer. I expect you to help me tame her, mi amor."

Ophelia batted her platinum-blonde lashes at him. "Double teaming her in a tickle fight? Count me in."