Don't Forget Me

No one enjoys Halloween quite as much as Lucinda does. Not even you, her roommate. That’s not to say you dislike Halloween, but honestly, how could you possibly compare your enjoyment for the holiday to the woman who stayed up all night brewing potions to decorate the entire street? She even woke up early to use them! 

A busy afternoon of setting up gazebos, jack-o-lanterns and snacks finally pays off when the clock hits 7pm. You can’t help but want to buy Lucinda a new brewing stand for all the work she did, but when you told her that she took it as an invitation to dress you for the night.

October isn’t the coldest month in the year but it sure feels like it is when you’re dressed in an outfit fit for a renaissance fair. Though you wanted to protest, you did promise Lucinda that you’d wear whatever she got for you. It was, in her words, ‘the least you could do after promising her a new brewing stand.’ You both know that’s not what you meant but you digress. Cold as you may be, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel fancier than usual.

“Lucinda!” You shout, attracting a little too much attention for the number of names you called. You’d use your phone but the dress you’re wearing doesn’t have pockets. You’ve already walked up and down the street two times but still you’ve yet to find the woman who dressed you. “Lucinda, where did you go?!”

“Boo!” A pair of hands clasp onto your shoulders and you’re forced to swallow your fear. “Did I scare you?”

“Laurance!” Your face unconsciously scrunches as you turn and recognize the boy who took it upon himself to startle you. “Why did you think that was a good idea?”

An apologetic smile pulls across the boy’s lips. You can’t help but notice a slight shift in his gaze after his eyes have scanned over your Halloween costume. Before you can question the change, Laurance suddenly takes a knee and wraps his hands around one of your own. “My sincerest apologies, fair maiden, but I assure you it’s for the greater good.” The boy is bending down and pressing a kiss against your knuckles before you even have a chance to get embarrassed.

You stand there speechlessly as Laurance continues to kneel before you. As you stare down at the boy a chill runs down your body. You’re not sure if it’s because of the cold or if it’s because Laurance is down on one knee in front of you. Maybe a little bit of both? You want to say something, you really do, but words continue to evade you.

“What do you say, m’lady?” The boy peers up at you with that ever-cheeky grin of his. “Am I forgiven?”

You finally tear your gaze away from the boy, embarrassed. “Why are you doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“Taking a knee.” Still avoiding eye contact, you bend down and attempt to pull Laurance to his feet. You’re surprised to be met with resistance. He doesn’t usually take the bit this far. Is it because it’s Halloween?

Even when you try a little harder ,Laurance hardly budges. If anything your seemingly futile attempts to pull Laurance to his feet only serve to amuse him further.

“I didn’t realise it pained you so much to see me beneath you.” You can practically feel the grin on Laurance’s face as he coos at you. “You’re so cute.”

“What?”

The force of Laurance’s resistance disappears and you’re thrown wildly off balance. If losing your balance wasn’t enough to disorient you then getting tugged forward into Laurance’s chest was more than enough to do it. If you weren’t so surprised then you might’ve been impressed by how quickly Laurance stood up for his little maneuver.

Your first instinct is to step out of Laurance’s grasp, hopefully out of his reach, but in doing so your shoe catches the edge of your dress and you start to fall backwards… again… You suppose you’re rather lucky that Laurance has a firm grip on you, but you’re not about to admit something like that. 

“Is this better, m’lady?” The boy places his finger on the underside of your chin and lifts your gaze to his. Gosh, have his eyes always been this blue?

A lump begins to form in your throat as you stare up at Laurance. Always a smooth talker, this one. “Y-you… you flirt.”

“You say that, but you know I only flirt like this with you.” His lips begin to curl upward and you just know he’s ready to double down. As much as you swoon, you know his words are harmless. He is, as you’ve already said, a massive flirt.

“You’re lucky we don’t work together anymore.” You blurt out, staring up at Laurance with a gaze you hope will convey your true feelings. “This would get you written up in a heartbeat.”

Laurance holds you a beat longer before releasing you from his grasp. As much as you enjoy your freedom, you can’t deny how much you enjoyed his warmth.

“So what are you supposed to be?” You ask the boy. “Some sort of ninja?”

“A power ninja.”

“A power ninja…?” You repeat. “You do know that real ninjas don’t typically dress in black, right? It’s a common misconception that stems from 18th century Japan. When it comes to stageplays, stagehands dress in all black and are expected to be ignored by the audience. That was until a certain play where one of the so-called stagehands jumped out and killed one of the actors in the play, revealing that they weren’t a stagehand, but an assassin! It was so shocking that-” You suddenly stop mid-explaination in the fear that you’ve begun boring the boy. You trail away from your previous thought with a quiet laugh. “Anyway, the costume looks good on you.”

It seems like the boy hesitates to reply for a moment but he eventually follows your lead, puffing out his chest as if he were a superhero. “Thanks! I think so too.” As he does, the tight fabric of his cheap costume pulls tight against his chest. You and everyone in a five meter radius can blatantly see the definition of his muscles. It’s certainly a sight for sore eyes, but you’re not one to stare.

Then again, you’re pretty sure you’re staring right now.

“Laurance! There you are!”

Both you and Laurance turn to see the newcomer. To your surprise, another power ninja has joined the frey. “Are you a power ninja too, Dante?” You ask as the blue haired boy approaches.

“So you’re familiar with The Power Ninjas?” Dante grins as he reaches you and Laurance.

“Not really.” You admit. “I only assumed that you and Laruance were wearing matching couple’s costumes.”

“What?!” Both boys blurt at the same time. After looking between each other in bewilderment, Dante confronts you.

“How could you say that?!” The boy gasps. “The Power Ninjas are iconic!”

“Yeah! They’re, like, the cornerstone of any boy’s adolescent years!” Laurance adds.

You give the boys a nod, a smile slowly creeping up onto your lips. “And you’re dressed up as power ninjas because you’re adolescent boys, right?”

“Wha- no!” Dante’s mouth falls agape for a moment but he quickly composes himself again. “You wouldn’t recognize them because you’re so caught up in liking anime and… and idols!”

“You’re right, I do like my anime idols. That’s something I thank KC for every day. You’re not insulting her tastes, are you?” You can’t help but enjoy how Dante starts to squirm beneath the weight of your implication.

“No, I- that’s not what-” Dante huffs and crosses his arms. “I’m just surprised you didn’t dress up in one of those idol costumes tonight.”

“Right! I saw you post about it on Instagram the other day.” Laurance adds. “How come you’re not wearing that tonight?”

“KC and I couldn’t find enough girls to cosplay the entire group.” You shrug in an attempt to mask any lingering disappointment. “We probably should’ve chosen a girl group that was a little smaller than six but I… I got carried away…”

“Just a group of six? Who doesn’t have five friends willing to dress up together?” Dante blurts, taking you by surprise. Judging from the way he starts biting the corner of his mouth, you think the boy might’ve surprised himself with what he said, too - much less the fact that it came out so unceremoniously.

“Yeah, I know. I’m pretty lame…” Your attempts at a laugh are painfully forced.

“No, I-” Dante clears his throat but the words he wants to say get caught in his chest. You know what he meant but you can’t bring yourself to clear the air. After all, you’re pretty sure he’s right. 

What kind of person doesn’t have five other people who are willing to do a group costume together? No, what kind of person plans a group cosplay without a group? Why do you always get your hopes up like this? Why can’t you just-!

Nevermind.

It’s just another reason you’re so-

“I think what Dante meant to say was that coordinating a group of six is basically a full-time job.” Laurance finally interjects - perhaps a bit louder than he intended but he’s quick to adjust his tone. “It’s difficult enough to get three people to agree on pizza toppings! Let alone a whole group cosplay.”

Dante nods eagerly, “Y-yes! Exactly! I could barely get Laurance to be a Power Ninja with me, let alone the others. It’s basically a miracle we managed to coordinate tonight!”

You smile at the boys and this time it feels a little less forced. “Right,” you concede, “besides, the costume Lucinda chose for me is a way better fit for a night like this.”

“Lucinda chose that for you?” Dante wonders.

“Yeah…” A soft laugh bubbles up in your chest as you glance down at your outfit. “No wonder it’s not my style, right?”

Dante hums for a moment, his eyes raking over your costume honestly before meeting your gaze. “I think you make the dress look really pretty.”

You stare at Dante expectantly, as if waiting for the ball to drop, but his smile is an honest one. You might’ve even called him a flirt if not for the way his expression slowly began to shift beneath the weight of your gaze.

Before either of you can really address the compliment, two more boys enter the fray.

“Hey-hey! Garroth, I found them!” A certain white-haired boy latches himself onto Laurance and Dante; one arm across each of the boys’ shoulders. Travis hardly wastes any time on them, however, as his attention is immediately drawn to you. “Woah, I didn’t realise my fellow power ninjas were hanging out with such a beautiful maiden!” Similar to what Laurance had done earlier, Travis dips down onto one knee before you. “Milady.”

You indulge the boy with a small courtesy. “Sir Travis.”

“Hey! Why does he get to be ‘Sir Travis’ but I’m not ‘Sir Laurance?’ I was way more charming than him!” Laurance pouts.

“I’ve clearly found favour with the young lady.” Travis teases Laurance. “Better luck next time, lover-boy.” As Travis goes to wrap his arm around your shoulder you quickly duck under his arm and take a step back - this time you’re much more careful not to trip over your long dress.

“Okay, that’s more than enough bachelors for one moment.” You announce. “If I stay here any longer then I’ll never find Lucinda.”

“Oh, Lucinda? I saw her a few minutes ago!” Garroth suddenly chimes in and causes your head to snap in his direction. Considering how much of a presence the boy holds, you hadn’t realised was standing beside you.

“You did? Where is she?”

“She was two houses down from here… somewhere near the apple bobbing buckets. Oh, but that was around the time we were all-”

“-Garroth!”

You and Garroth both turn toward Laurance in a heartbeat, confused. “Yeah?”

More than anything, you’re surprised that all three of the boys are glaring daggers at the blonde standing at your side. Has something unsavoury happened to your roommate? Judging by the looks on their faces, none of the boys will spill the beans. At this point your best option becomes clear.

“Can you take me to Lucinda, Garroth?” You don’t wait for Garroth to reply - you already know he’ll say yes. You also know that the other boys will say no. “You will? Thanks!”

Without a single moment wasted you grab onto Garroth’s arm and start pulling him in the direction of the apple bobbers. The other three boys say something or other in protest but you pay little mind to them. All you’re focused on is getting away without losing your footing (and without losing Garroth).

Dragging Garroth along while the others try to stop you feels like something akin to nostalgia, though you can’t say why. As far as you can remember, Garroth has always been the one leading you, not the other way around. Yet as you run along with Garroth behind you, you can’t help but smile.

“Hey, I think we passed the apple bobbing station-!” Garroth’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “Shouldn’t we stop running?”

“What?” Your head whips around instinctively and nearly causes you to stumble. Lucky for you, Garroth is quick to notice and catches you before you fall. You steady yourself against him, offering a quick smile in thanks, but your mind is still caught between the boys, Lucinda and, well… Garroth.

Though you’re still catching your breath you turn to look at Garroth. If the grin on his face is any indication of how he’s feeling then you’re certain he’s entertained by your antics, if not a bit confused. You didn’t mean to drag him into your little get-away plan, but… well, you meant to grab him but you’re not sure why you grabbed him. You just did.

It’s not like you can’t find Lucinda on your own. It’s just… you suppose some part of you wanted Garroth to go with you.

“Is there something on my face?” Asks Garroth, making you aware of your own staring.

You shake your head and swallow the quiet laughter bubbling up in your chest from your own embarrassment. “No, you’re good. I was just getting caught up in my own head.” You explain. “You said you saw Lucinda around the apple bobbing buckets, right?”

Garroth nods. “Yup, that’s the place! But I’m pretty sure she’s long gone by now.”

“What? Why?”

“Because Ivan was hanging out around there, too.”

“Ivan… Ivan…” You mumble the foreign name trying to spark some sort of realization. “Ivan?” Your jaw falls slack for a moment. “As in Lucinda’s cheating ex?!”

“Yeah, he was out and about with a few of his friends.” Garroth explains. “Lucinda didn’t want anything to do with him but he seemed pretty insistent on sticking around. That’s when-”

“He’s still here?! What an asshole!” Your voice comes out a little louder than you’d intended it to and causes a few glares to be thrown your way. Even Garroth seems caught off guard by your sudden outburst. “Oh, I mean… I guess he…” You start to stumble over your words but Garroth quickly cuts you off with a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“I get it.” He assures you. “Guys who cheat on their girlfriends are scum. Actually, anyone who cheats on their partner is scum.”

You breathe a quick sigh and nod your head. Thank Irene Garroth isn’t the kind of person to take that the wrong way. The last thing you needed was to isolate yourself before you had a chance to settle in. Speaking of settling in, you think you catch a glimpse of the woman who brought you to the neighbourhood in the first place. Before you can confirm if it’s really Lucinda, she disappears into the crowd that’s gathered behind Garroth.

“I think I saw Lucinda!” You announce, grabbing Garroth and dragging him along to where you think your witch of the hour has gone.

It’s a bit difficult to push through the crowd that’s gathered but you eventually make it to the edge. Much to your dismay, Lucinda is nowhere to be seen. Not all hope is lost, however, as you catch sight of another familiar face at the tin can alley.

You nudge Garroth slightly, getting the blonde's attention before approaching the black haired boy at the edge of the driveway. You approach slowly to avoid taking him by surprise but you’re pretty sure he saw you before you saw him.

“A ninja and a pirate?” The boy hums without sparing a glance. “You don’t see that every day.” 

“That’s because it’s not Halloween every day.” A short, amused huff pushes past your lips as you give your reply. “Though considering your own attire, I guess you wouldn’t know that.”

The boy glances over at you and Garroth long enough to utter an amused “touché” before launching a ball at the cans sitting on the other side of the table.

“Only five of six?” You tease. “I thought you were better than that, Gene.”

You can tell he’s holding back his laugh from the way his mouth curls up in the corner. “Hey, go easy on me. I just got here.” Gene crosses to the other side of the makeshift carnival game and begins picking the cans up off the ground. “Are you two here to play, too?”

“Not really. We’re actually looking for Lucinda.” You admit.

“Lucinda, huh?” Gene repeats. “What for?”

The urge to laugh climbs up into your throat but you swallow it down quickly. “She uh…” You clear your throat but the nerves just keep coming. “It’s silly but the two of us are supposed to go into the haunted house together.”

“That sounds fun.”

“Y-yeah, it can be…” You shift in place beneath the gaze of your companions. “I’m just-”

“Scared?” Gene takes the words right out of your mouth. Though you want to deny it, you can’t. You know better.

He knows you better.

“Of course you’re a little scared.” Garroth suddenly chimes in with a hand on your shoulder. “Haunted houses are supposed to be scary. That’s the whole point!”

“I mean…” You bite back the words before they can leave your mouth, turning to Garroth with your best smile. “Yeah. I’m just getting inside my own head. Nothing to worry about!” 

It looks like Gene has more to say but you’re pretty sure the look on your face is what causes him to falter. He eventually looks down at the ball in his hands before tossing it over to you. 

“Here,” he says, “if you can knock down all six cans then you can go into the haunted house with Lucinda. If you can’t, you go with me instead. I’ll even let you throw as many times as you want.”

“Wait, what?” Your brows furrow in confusion at the boy’s sudden suggestion. “Why would I agree to that? Isn’t Lucinda the one you’re competing with?”

“Not really.” Gene shrugs as he walks over to you, only stopping when he’s wedged himself between you and Garroth. “If you really want to go into the haunted house with Lucinda then you’ll throw the ball. Unless you don’t want to go, that is.”

“I- of course I want to go with Lucinda!” You insist. “I’m just… my arms have been a bit sore recently. Probably because of all the gazebos I put up today! Yeah. I won’t be able to make a good throw at this rate.”

“I can do it for you.” Offers Garroth as he steps out from behind Gene.

Gene’s brows raise slightly as he hears Garroth volunteer for you. Then he smiles. “Yeah,” Gene says, “If you don’t think you can do it then you can let Garroth throw instead.”

You feel that laugh from before starting to creep up your throat once again. “But that’s not fair, is it? Garroth was literally a-”

“I’ll allow it.” Gene cuts you off with nothing more than a sly grin. “Go on then. Give the ball to Garroth.”

Though you hesitate to comply, you eventually hand the ball over to Garroth. You should’ve known that Gene would back you into a corner like this. You can’t say you’re happy about it, but at least Lucinda isn’t here to bear witness to it all. If she was here then that feisty roommate of yours would’ve torn Gene limb from limb.

You try not to focus on Gene’s lingering gaze as you and Garroth walk over to the throwing line. Instead, you decide to focus on Garroth. It’s been a while since you last saw him throw, let alone pitch. At least you can enjoy watching him work.

Garroth, of course, does not fail to disappoint you. He does a few quick warm-ups and brief stretches before taking aim.

Left foot goes up.

Elbow stays above the shoulder.

He shifts his weight across his body and then-

Oh… that must be why you’ve been feeling so nostalgic.

Garroth, perhaps a little harder than he needs to, launches the ball with a surprising amount of speed. The baseball soars straight through to the intended targets and sends the poor cans flying every which way.

“Booyah! First try!” Garroth cheers, turning to you with that big grin of his. “Did you see that?”

“Wow Garroth, that was awesome!” You hide your true feelings behind a smile, meeting Garroth’s excitement with some of your own. “I’ve gotta be honest though, you’re so… rusty.”

The moment Garroth hears your words his face begins to flush. “Hey!” He argues, “it’s been at least six years since the last time I threw a fast ball! I thought I did pretty well.”

“You did really well! It’s just-” In an instant you burst out laughing and draw closer to the boy to nudge his arm. “Okay okay! I’m sorry, Garroth. Your fastball is still impeccably good. It’s way better than when you were thirteen, anyway.”

Garroth’s pout lessens and he gently nudges you back. “Oh yeah I am.” He beamed. “I wasn’t named Falcon Claw’s rookie pitcher of the year for nothing. I was good!”

“Good enough to knock over a bunch of cans.” You chuckle.

“Yeah,” Gene suddenly interjects and motions in the direction the ball was thrown, “good enough to lose the ball, too.”

“Oh…” Garroth rubs the back of his neck a little awkwardly. “I guess I went a little overboard.”

“Ya think?” Gene uses one hand to rub the temples of his head, effectively shielding his eyes from your view.

Before Gene has a chance to say anything more you grab Garroth by the hand and pull him in the direction of the now-missing baseball. “Come on then,” you chirped, “let’s go find that baseball.”

As you and Garroth begin sweeping the darkened yard in hopes of finding the lost baseball, you can’t help but notice your companion’s grim mood. He almost seems like a kicked puppy. You’d be remiss not to cheer him up at a time like this. After all, you’re more or less the reason why the ball got lost in the first place.

“Your pitching form has gotten a lot more refined since you were thirteen.” Your comment causes the boy to glance in your direction. “But your form seems more or less the same.”

“What do you mean?”

“You still look over your shoulder before throwing the ball.”

Garroth’s searching slows for a moment as he tilts his head back. He stays like that for a moment, as if replaying every pitch he’s ever thrown, before a short laugh erupts from him. “Yeah,” he admits, “I guess I never broke the habit. I tried to, though.”

You pause your searching long enough to glance over at your companion. You’re surprised to find, however, that he’s already looking at you. “You tried to?”

Garroth holds your gaze a little longer before turning away and chuckling to himself. “Yeah… My coach in high school tried his hardest to make me break the habit. He’d stand over my shoulder during practice and glare at me while I pitched! Isn’t that crazy?”

“He seriously did that?”

“He even tried wearing scary masks to make me focus on the pitch! Then there was that one time I had to do 10 pushups every time I looked over my shoulder. Not fun.”

You shake your head as quiet laughter erupts from your mouth. “He did all that just to get you to break a habit?”

“Yeah!” Garroth echoes your laughter with a chuckle of his own. “Kind of crazy, right?”

“Very crazy.” You hum in agreement. “Clearly none of it worked though. Why’s that?”

“Oh- that’s…” Garroth trails away for a moment. His silence peaks your interest and causes you to look over at the boy. In contrast, Garroth has his face turned away from you - a deliberate attempt to hide his expression from you. You won’t pry.

“It’s okay,” you start, but the boy shakes his head.

“N-no! It’s nothing bad or embarrassing! It’s just that-” Garroth clears his throat before turning to meet your gaze. It’s hard to tell in the dark but you think his face is rather flushed. “You were always sitting in the dugout… so I guess I got used to seeing you sitting on the bench.”

“Oh…” You pause for a moment, unsure what to say next. You didn’t think Halloween to be the kind of event where people get sentimental but the feeling was starting to creep up on you. “That makes sense. I mean, I was the daughter of your coach. Even if it was only for a year.”

Garroth chuckles to himself with a nod. “Time flies.”

“It really does…” Trying not to let yourself get too distracted from the task at hand, you kneel down near a few shrubs and start feeling around for the baseball. It isn’t long before your fingers brush across the smooth surface of a baseball. “Hey Garroth! I think I-”

“I found it!” Garroth suddenly exclaims, holding the baseball for you to see. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to cut you off there. What were you saying?”

“Wha- nothing!” You immediately pull your hand out from under the bush when Garroth reveals the baseball. “I just thought that I’d found the baseball.”

“Maybe it’s a second baseball?” Garroth suggests. “Here, I’ll see if I can reach it.”

You’re about to give a reply but a shifting in the bushes causes the words to get caught in your throat. Is there something, no, someone hiding in the bush?

Surely not… right?

You can’t stop the dreadful feeling of fear as it swells in your chest, but the fact that Garroth is walking towards you makes you feel a little less anxious. As soon as he kneels down beside you, however, a figure jumps out of the shrubs with a loud “boo!”

A shrill scream pierces your ears, but it’s not you who’s screaming. Rather, it’s your companion who’s been struck by fear. As soon as he realises there’s no real threat, Garroth quickly recomposes himself.

“Oh my Irene…” Garroth breathes in relief, “I thought I was a goner.”

“I don’t know about being a goner, but…” You release your hold around Garroth’s arm - something you didn’t even realise had happened until now - and look up at the person who’d jumped out of the bush.

You thought you would recognize your would-be scarer when you laid eyes upon him but no… he’s just… some guy.

“Who the heck are you?” You don’t mean to let the irritation slip out but it does.

The guy laughs as he steps out of the bush. “Oh, don’t you worry your pretty little head about that.” He sneers. “I’m just a guy who enjoys a little scare on Halloween.”

You can feel your brows furrowing at this guy’s statement. I mean, yeah, it’s Halloween but what kind of person goes around scaring strangers? Jumping out random bushes, especially??

“Why don’t you find some other way to entertain yourself, Ivan? We’re already doing you a favour by letting you stick around the neighbourhood.” Garroth suddenly stands up, his tall figure looming over the guy- wait, Ivan??

“This is Ivan?” You shoot up from the ground and unconsciously allow yourself to slip behind Garroth ever so slightly. Though you make an effort to bite back any unnecessary animosity, you don’t feel as bad about the irritation in your tone anymore. “He even looks like scum.”

“He is scum.” Garroth affirms.

“Hey, words hurt ya’know?” Ivan, quite obviously, feigns hurt. He even places a hand on his chest like your words had pierced his heart. You doubt they did. “Didn’t your mommy ever tell you to be nice to strangers?”

“I’m pretty sure most parents teach their kids that strangers are dangerous.” Garroth glances down at you for a brief moment before facing Ivan once again.

“What’s going on over here?” The familiar voice of Gene cuts through the tension in the air - though you’re rather inclined to say that his presence only causes more tension to arise. He walks across the yard and stands on the other side of you, effectively using himself and Garroth as a wall between you and Ivan.

Ivan looks Gene up and down before quirking a brow. “What’s it to ya, Count von Count?”

A huff involuntarily escapes Gene’s lips at his newly given nickname. “Look, I’ll be generous with you since it’s Halloween. Get out of here before I count to three and you get to keep all your teeth. Sound good?”

“Oh~ looks like Count von Count is gonna teach us how to count to three!” Ivan jeers. “Think you can do that on your own, or do you need me to help you?”

“This motherfucker-”

“You know what-?” You grab onto the sleeves of both Garroth and Gene before anything untoward can happen, causing both of the boys to look at you. “I think the three of us are going to leave. Have fun with your bush, Ivan. It’s probably the only one you’ll be in since cheating on Lucinda, anyway.”

You drag yourself and the boys away before Garroth or Gene have a chance to protest. By the time you manage to get back to the light of the street, your heart has just started to settle down again.

After a moment of silence, Gene finally speaks up. “I didn’t know you had that in you.” An amused look spreads across the boy’s face.

“Yeah,” Garroth adds. “You really put him in his place.”

“Oh, right…” You can’t help but avert your gaze from the two boys. You’re glad they seem amused. You, on the other hand, can slowly feel your own embarrassment creeping up on you as your adrenaline begins to fall. “I wasn’t really thinking about it. I just… I think I should find Lucinda.”

Gene raises a brow as a smile tugs on the corner of his lips; it’s the kind of shift that perfectly reminds you how you got here in the first place. “So you can go into the haunted house with her, yeah?”

Your jaw tightens for a moment before you manage to nod your head in reply. “Yup.” You quip. “Something I was going to do whether Garroth knocked those cans down or not.”

“Right.” Gene drags out his response in a way you could only describe as very… him. “You know what? Maybe Garroth and I will take a stroll through the house after you and Lucinda.”

Garroth, upon hearing his name, suddenly perks up. “Really?”

“Really.” Gene nods at the boy.

As Garroth opens his mouth to reply to Gene’s offer, another familiar voice calls for the blonde from down the street. As a matter of fact, they don’t sound that far away at all. Garroth looks between you and Gene before shaking his head. “Sorry Gene, I don’t think I’ll be able to go with you right now.” Garroth laments. The boy throws a cautious glance over his shoulder before his gaze settles back onto you. “It sounds like the boys are looking for me.”

“Is it important?” The words come out a little faster than you meant them to. You’re pretty sure Garroth notices this, too.

The blonde boy spares you a quiet but warm smile. “Should I come back if it’s not?”

You shake your head. “No, it’s okay. Laurance and the other boys need their fellow power ninja. Don’t let me hold you back.”

It looks like Garroth is about to say something more but he never does. Instead he offers you and Gene a quick goodbye before splitting away from the two of you. You have to stop yourself from reaching for Garroth as he disappears into the crowd. Granted the street isn’t that crowded so you could’ve gone after him if you really wanted to, but you don’t. That doesn’t mean you don’t miss him as soon as he’s gone, though.

“Where did Garroth run off to?”

Your head turns at the sound of the familiar voice, though it notably isn’t Gene. Rather, you’re met with the appearance of both Sasha and Zenix - the latter of which had made the inquiry.

While Sasha is dressed up in a simple black gown, her long silver hair giving her the appearance of a wraith, Zenix is done up in a much more elaborate zombie costume. You particularly note that his makeup is done up impeccably.

Gene shrugs in regards to Zenix’s question. “I don’t know… and frankly, I don’t really care.”

“Whatever. His costume wasn’t even that cool anyway.” Zenix mutters, seemingly disinterested but still looking in the direction Garroth disappeared. “What was he even dressed as? Was he, like, some sort of power ninja or something?”

“He is, actually.” You point out, causing Zenix’s gaze to redirect over to you. “I’m surprised you recognized it. Dante told me that its target demographic is teenage boys so I-”

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure your target demographic is also teenage boys, so- ow! The hell was that for?!” Zenix is cut off when Sasha graciously smacks him on the back of the head.

“Too far, Zenix.” Though she’s scolding her companion, it comes off less like scolding and more like a matter-of-fact statement due to her monotone delivery. “At least let her finish her sentence before you start trying to protect your ego.”

“What?! I’m not-” Zenix averts his gaze from you with a quiet huff. “...whatever.”

As silence begins to settle your eyes dart from person to person. Rather than allowing the conversation to fall back into Gene’s hands - only Irene knows what he’d end up roping you into - you start to lead the conversation in a more desirable direction.

“So what have you guys been up to?” You ask.

“Oh, you know… we’ve just been going around…” Sasha replies to you first. You can’t decipher her true feelings beneath her monotone delivery so you assume she’s being sincere. “We’ve been looking at all the different decorations and whatnot.”

“Did anything catch your eye?”

“There’s a handful of skeletons a few houses down.” Sasha nods her head in the general direction from which she and Zenix had just arrived; presumably the direction where the skeletons are. “Those were pretty cool.”

“That does sound cool.” Your eyes naturally follow the direction Sasha pointed out but you doubt you can catch a glimpse of the skeletons from over here. “I should check that out later.”

“Are you sure you’re gonna have time for that?” Gene nudges you with his elbow, making you acutely aware of how close he’s gotten between now and a few moments ago. “I mean, you’re still on the lookout for Lucinda, right?”

“R-right! Lucinda…” You cross your arms and pull away from Gene ever so slightly. “Have you two seen her around?”

Though Sasha shakes her head, Zenix finally redirects his gaze back over to you. “Yeah, I saw her.” He answers. “She was using her potions to grow a patch of pumpkins or something. Probably for the pumpkin carving contest.”

“The four of us should go compete together.” Gene suddenly suggests, peaking the interest of the entire group. “After that we can all go hit up some of the other activities in the area.”

“I don’t think we’re allowed to enter the contest as a group of four.” You comment, your eyes flitting between your three companions quickly but methodically. “Seems a little unfair, you know?”

“It doesn’t matter how many people team up together. There’s no way they’re gonna beat my pump-zee.” Zenix suddenly declares.

You pause for a moment as you focus your attention on the zealous brunette. “Pump-zee?”

“Yeah.”

“As in… a pumpkin zombie?”

“Yeah. Wasn’t that obvious the first time?”

“Wouldn’t it be better to call it a zompkin?” You ask but the boy gives you a strange look.

“Why would you call it a zompkin?” Zenix asks as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s not a zombie pumpkin, it’s a pumpkin zombie. Pumpkins would never come back to life as zombies. They’re not even alive!”

An initial response forms in your chest but it gets caught in your throat before you can vocalize it. I mean, the name is pretty straightforward and Zenix does make a good point about a pumpkin zombie… “But pumpkins are alive?”

“No they’re not!” 

“Yes they are.”

“No they’re-” Zenix begins to stumble over his words as the realisation of what he said starts to dawn on him. “I mean yeah, they’re alive, but that’s not what I meant when I said alive! I mean, like, the breathing-eating-growing kind of alive!”

“Zenix, that’s- all living things breathe, eat and grow when they’re alive.”

“Nope! Not all living things breathe!” Zenix grins at you in his own self-satisfaction.

You, on the other hand, are left to bite back your initial reaction by pressing your lips into a thin line. “This is so ridiculous.” You grumble out.

“Hah!” The boy cheers. “You agree with me!”

“No I don’t!”

“Yes you do!”

“Whatever.” You finally relent. If you were to logic your way to victory it would be at the cost of bickering with Zenix like a pair of children. Again. “Can you take me to Lucinda, Zenix?”

Zenix, still in the middle of silently celebrating his victory over you, quirks his brow. “Why me?”

“Because you’re the one who saw her last.”

“Yeah, but that was, like, twenty minutes ago.” Zenix grumbles. “Why do I have to go with you? Why don’t you go look for her with-?”

“Zenix, just go!” With perhaps the most amount of emotion you’ve heard from her in a while, Sasha practically commands Zenix to comply with your request. It’s not much, mind you, but it’s more than what you usually expect from the girl - more than what Zenix usually expects too, apparently, as his head snaps over to Sasha immediately.

You recognize the look on Zenix’s face. It’s the same one he used to give his parents every time you showed up on his doorstep. Despite how much he’s grown, he’s still the same petulant child you knew all those years ago.

The boy glares at Sasha for a moment longer before turning away and marching off. You’re left to say some quick goodbyes to Sasha and Gene before chasing after the boy. Though Sasha seems rather indifferent to how things are going, you can’t help but notice the reluctance in Gene’s tone as he sees you off - not that you get to linger on that little factoid since Zenix is getting further and further away.

By the time you catch up with Zenix it’s because the boy has stopped to look at some Halloween decorations - though you also notice how he spares you a glance as you reach his side.

“Took you long enough.” Zenix huffs.

Your brows unconsciously furrow as you look over at Zenix. “If you didn’t stomp away then you wouldn’t have had to wait for me.”

“I didn’t stomp away! You’re just a slow poke. Like always.” A grin pulls on the corner of Zenix’s lips but he restrains it in your presence. “You know, if we move at your pace then we’ll never find Lucinda.”

“And if we move at yours then we’ll run right past her.” You retort, watching with satisfaction as Zenix fails to make up an immediate reply. “See. You know I’m right.”

“That’s-”

“Come on.” You walk past Zenix just as he’d done earlier, though you make an effort to walk a little faster than you had before. You only slow down when you look over your shoulder and call out to the boy, “If I get to the pumpkin carving area before you then you can say goodbye to your pump-zee.”

That little taunt of yours works wonders as Zenix practically sprints over to you. He doesn’t say anything when he sees the smug look on your face but boy, was he miffed. It almost makes you want to shower the boy with pity. 

Almost.

As soon as the two of you reach the edge of the pumpkin carving station, Zenix taps you on the shoulder and directs your attention toward a familiar witch. You waste no time after that; eagerly pushing through the crowd to get to the woman you’ve been looking for all this time.

“Lucinda!” You shout your roommate’s name to get her attention.

The aforementioned woman turns in your direction and shoots you a smile. “The one and only.”

“You don’t know how long I’ve been looking for-”

“Sorry, just a minute.” The girl cuts you off, making you realise that Lucinda is in the middle of transporting some pumpkins. Once Lucinda has put the gourds down she looks over her shoulder at you. “What can I do for my sweet little maiden?”

“Lucinda, I’m not-” 

“You’re a maid? I thought you were a pirate.” Zenix blurts and cuts you off from your train of thought. You’re not surprised that he’s still following you, but you are surprised by how closely he’s kept to you. His arm is practically pressed against yours as he analyzes your outfit. “No wonder you’re not wearing a pirate hat. Or an eyepatch for that matter.”

“I’m not a maid.” You correct the boy. “I”m dressed up like someone from the renaissance era.”

“Maids existed in the renaissance era.”

“Yes, I know that. I’m not saying they didn’t have maids, I’m just saying that I’m not a maid.”

“So you’re a pirate then?”

“Zenix, I-” Exasperation builds in your chest as your gaze snaps up to the boy, but the moment you see his face it starts to melt away. “I bet you think you’re so funny.”

“I am.” He hums, the grin on his face growing ever so slightly. He’s about to follow up his comment but Lucinda’s laughter catches him off guard. In fact, it catches both of you off guard.

“Oh my Irene, you two are so cute!” Lucinda giggles to herself in amusement. “It’s like watching two little kids bicker. How adorable.”

You groan to yourself and make a show of rolling your eyes at Lucinda. “Adorable to you, maybe. I bet you wouldn’t find it so amusing if you were in my shoes.”

“Oh sweetheart, the fact that I get to watch is what makes it amusing in the first place!” The ginger haired girl reaches forward and gently pinches your cheek. “While I’m assuming you’re not just here to entertain me, I wouldn’t hate it if you said you were.”

“We’re not.” You confirm, indulging your roommate for a mere moment longer before shaking yourself out of her grip. “Lucinda, I wanted to talk to you about the haunted house.”

“Right! It’s only being run until 10pm, right? What time is it right now?”

“It’s around 8:37, but I-”

“It’s already past eight thirty? Shoot! I was supposed to be over by the costume competition by now! I’ve gotta run.” Lucinda gasps and pulls out her phone. Her eyes land on the screen for less than a second before she’s weaving her way through the crowd. She’s already halfway down the driveway when she turns to say, “Oh! If you want to carve a pumpkin for the competition feel free to do so. I’ll talk to you later!”

Though you want to chase after that pesky roommate of yours, she slips right out from between your fingertips. It’s a little frustrating considering how long you spent looking for her, but at the same time you can’t help but feel a little bit… relieved. 

Lucinda has been running around all night making sure things stay on track, and you can’t even blame her! This entire event is only happening because she planned it all. As busy as she is, it’s clear that she’s having fun. If anything, you shouldn’t be taking up so much of her time. She has places to be and things to do! She can’t just sit around while you drag your feet over going to one measly little haunted house. It’s literally the only thing she asked you to do with her.

“Sorry for dragging you all the way out here, Zenix.” You apologize to the boy, your eyes drifting down toward your shoes. “I should’ve known how busy Lucinda would be tonight. Now I’m just wasting her time and yours.”

You can see Zenix shifting in place beside you. There’s a moment where you think he might up and leave - something you wouldn’t blame him for - but he doesn’t. He kind of just… lingers beside you. Maybe he didn’t hear you?

“Zenix?” You look up to see what might be distracting the boy but he’s not distracted. Not by anything outside of you, anyway. You clear your throat before continuing. “...you don’t have to stay here. You already helped me find Lucinda. I don’t want you wasting your time with me-”

“Who said I was wasting my time?” Zenix suddenly pipes up. “Just cause Lucinda’s too busy for you doesn’t mean I am.”

“...sorry?”

“That’s not- I mean like, you know what I meant!” Zenix crosses his arms and turns his face slightly away from you - not that it does anything to hide his expression or the slight flush of his cheeks from you. Before you have a chance to reply, Zenix turns in place and starts heading to the other side of the driveway. As quickly as he started, Zenix stops and turns around. “You wanted to see my pump-zee, right?”

You stare at him, head tilted ever so slightly. “I… what?”

The boy groans quietly to himself, walks back over to you and takes your hand to drag you along with him. “Didn’t you hear me?” The boy mutters. “I’m taking you to see my pump-zee.”

“Ah, right.” You say, “the one and only pumpkin zombie. Not to be confused with a zombie pumpkin, of course.”

“Shut up. You think it’s great.”

A smile begins to tug on the corner of your lips. “It’s unique.”

“And accurate. See?” The boy steps aside when you reach a certain table, letting go of your hand to gesture toward what you assume is his so-called pump-zee. “Pretty great, huh?”

You lean over to inspect the carved pumpkin. Though you’ve never seen anything quite like it, you can’t deny that it’s a pumpkin zombie (and NOT a zombie pumpkin). “Wow.” You say, impressed. “This is good. This is really good, actually. How long did it take you to carve this?”

“Fifteen minutes.” Zenix grins and puffs out his chest slightly. “If Sasha hadn’t dragged me away then the pump-zee would look even better!”

You chuckle to yourself and reply with a quick “of course it would” before looking at the carved pumpkin once again.

There’s something so familiar about the pumpkin but you can’t quite put your finger on it. It’s a zombie, obviously, but the eyes are hollow - carved to have a distinct glow compared to the rest.

“Oh, wait!” You suddenly look over at Zenix once again. “Is your pump-zee based on COD Zombies?”

“Yeah actually, it is.” Zenix admits. “I didn’t think you’d recognize it.”

“Of course I would recognize it. I spent hours staring at the things.” Your eyes drift upward as you recall your time playing the aforementioned video game. “Gosh, that takes me way back. How old were we when you taught me how to play?”

“I don’t know. Like, six or seven?”

“No way! I was at least nine or ten. You were just about to go into middle school, remember?”

Zenix opens his mouth to refute you but seemingly realises you’re right. “Damn… no wonder it took us so long to reach the round limit. You were basically a baby.”

“How can you call a ten year old a baby? I could understand if I was actually six, but ten?” You playfully shove Zenix and he returns the favor.

“Are you kidding? I was basically teaching someone with the hand-eye coordination of a six year old. That’s probably why I thought you were six.”

“Dramatic much?”

“Not a chance.”

You laugh at the boy’s remark, smiling as you shake your head in refute. “Whatever you say, ‘ShadowKnightZ’.”

“Don’t bring my gamertag into this-!” Zenix scoffs at you, amused. “You’re just salty that you can’t carve a pumpkin better than mine.”

“To be honest… I really don’t think I can.” You can see Zenix watching you as if he’s waiting for you to reveal a joke with the punchline, but that’s it. In all honesty, you know you can’t outdo Zenix’s creation. Not even if you wanted to, and not even if you tried. It’s nothing shameful, of course. It’s just… the truth.

You shrug beneath Zenix’s gaze, turning to admire the carved pumpkin once more. It’s nothing professional but there’s clear signs of effort and care. Even if he spent a few more minutes on it, you’re sure the boy’s pumpkin would turn out even better. Hell, even this version might win the competition.

As Zenix slides up beside you, he nudges you to get your attention. You comply and turn to face him; confused to see a softer look on his face than usual.

“So like… if we’re just gonna chill over here for a while, do you wanna help me out?” He asks, his eyes flitting over to yours for just a moment. “I can teach you my techniques.”

You’re about to agree but something pulls you back. “I don’t want to get in your way.” You’re not sure why you said that, and it seems like Zenix is in the same boat.

“Get in my way?” The boy scoffs at your comment. “Please. I taught you how to play COD when you didn’t even know how to hold a controller. If that’s not enough proof of your own potential then I don’t know what is.”

“Yeah but I-”

“No buts.” Zenix is surprisingly firm with his decision. He’s always been stubborn, yes, but this stubbornness is a little different from before. Actually, no, it’s the same as it was back then. You suppose it’s now that you’re both adults that you can see it for what it is.

Finally relenting, you let Zenix fill your hands with various pumpkin carving tools as he shows you how he uses each one - rather creatively, you might add.

Many of the flimsy tools become multi-purposed in Zenix’s hands. He uses the different knives for certain angles, uses a bristle brush to texture and carve, heck, he even uses the spoon to make dents in the skin of the pumpkin for more texture. It’s unconventional, a little bizarre, but very him.

And now it’s very you, too.

Twenty minutes fly by in the blink of an eye. You only realise how much time has passed because you ended up carving a pumpkin of your own. Not a pump-zee like Zenix, but something cute and simple.

You’re no narcissist but seeing your hard work displayed in front of you is… nice. It’s not award-winning nice, but it’s something you think you can be proud of.

“Well, well, well! Look what we have here.” A familiar voice rings out and catches the attention of yourself and Zenix. “There are two extremely strong contenders for first place just across the driveway. How do you think they’ll fair, Travis?”

“I’m glad you asked, Dante.” A familiar white-haired boy chimes in. “While they’re both magnificent entries upon first glance, we’ll have to see how they hold up against our 5-category ranking system.”

The two boys stop in front of you and Zenix with clipboards in hands and… monocles?

“The hell kind of ninjas are you?” Zenix blurts. “A pair of nerdy ninjas or something?”

“Nerdy ninjas?!” Dante exclaims, “I’ll have you know that we’re dressed up as-”

“-Power Ninjas.” You, Dante and Zenix all say the name at the same time, though there’s a notable difference in cadence between Dante, Zenix and yourself.

Dantes’ brows raise for a brief moment before they become furrowed. “But not just Power Ninjas. Travis and I have been selected by the lovely and radiant Lucinda to be the judges of the pumpkin carving contest.”

You raise a brow. “And that explains the monocles?”

“Of course it explains the monocles! How would you know we’re the judges if we didn’t wear them?” Travis jumps in, adjusting his monocle and straightening his non-existent tie with a grin.

“I don’t know… the clipboards, maybe?” You motion toward the clipboards, clearly labeled ‘Judge’ with bold letters. “Though I suppose someone could mistake you for a pair of power ninjas doing a survey without the monocle.”

“Or a pair of morons walking around with clipboards.”

“Hey!” Dante puffs up slightly, glaring at Zenix with contempt. It looks like he’s biting back some pretty nasty words, but only just.

“What’s the five-category ranking system you were talking about earlier?” You inquire. From the corner of your eye you see Zenix open his mouth to add more to your remark. To stop him, you end up nudging the boy; a little harder than you meant to, but the action gets the point across. 

Even if Travis notices the quick interaction, he doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, Travis quickly opts to take the lead and start answering your question.

Though you do your best to stay engaged with Travis as he explains the ranking system, you can’t help but find yourself continually glancing between Dante and Zenix. There’s a clear lingering tension between the two but neither one is willing to acknowledge it.

It’s almost funny, you think, how Dante and Zenix can’t seem to get along when Gene gets along with both of them just fine. The two boys share similar interests with one another and they both tend to act on impulse. I mean, yeah, Zenix tends to say things rather bluntly and Dante has a tendency to take things at face value, but you’d think with all their similarities they’d do more than simply tolerate one another.

If anything you think they’d be better friends with each other than they are with Gene, but you suppose Gene has something neither boys do - quick social and emotional awareness.

Love him or hate him, you can’t deny that Gene is actually a rather well-meaning guy; even if the way he goes about his well-meaning intentions feels a little less than ‘well’ to the average joe. You know this fact better than most. After all, you’re probably on the tail end of his well-meaning intentions more often than not.

“Hah! 87 points!” The combination of Zenix’s voice and him playfully shoving you pulls you out of your thoughts. “I told you! My pump-zee is gonna take first place.”

“First place with a measly 87 points? Yeah right!” Goads Dante. “87 out of 100 is so easy to beat. I bet-”

And then you stop paying attention. Instead, you glance over at Travis who’s looking about as awkward as you feel. Curious, the boy silently mouths the word ‘pump-zee?’ at you. In reply, you shrug and mouth back that a pump-zee is ‘a pumpkin zombie, and not a zombie pumpkin.’

You and Travis share a quiet laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. This moment, however, only lasts so long before the bickering between the boys becomes a bit more than friendly.

“Says you, mister nerd ninja.”

“I already told you, I’m not a nerd ninja!”

“Dante! We still have another carved pumpkin to judge.” Travis intervenes, gesturing toward the pumpkin you carved.

At once you shake your head, your cheeks going warm. “O-oh! That’s okay-!” You step in front of where your pumpkin sits on the table, hiding it from any prying eyes. Even so, it’s clear that your attempts have come a little too late. They’re all looking at you now. “I uh, I don’t think I’m good enough to enter a competition just yet.”

Now it’s Travis’ turn to shake his head. “Nonesense. There’s no rules saying you have to be good enough to enter this competition. It’s a block party competition! I promise that the stakes are basically zero.”

“Yeah!” Dante adds. “Besides, what’s the worst thing that could happen? You enter the competition and then you get last place? Or- no! Someone knocks over your pumpkin and we tank your score because of it? Like that’s ever going to happen. You get me, right Travis?”

Travis blinks, surprised, and turns to Dante. “Huh? O-oh, yeah! I’m sure nothing that crazy will happen.” The boy ends his statement with a short laugh that trails away as quickly as it began.

You unconsciously begin biting the corner of your lip. Their eyes are still on you. They’re still waiting for you to move so they can see your pumpkin. You should probably just get out of the way and get it over with. It’s not like they’re going to say it’s bad. Not even if it-

“Okay!” You relent, your face growing warm from how loud your voice is in your own ears. Before any of the boys have a chance to say anything, you move from your spot in front of the table to stand off to the side. “Just… don’t tell me my final score, okay?”

Dante’s head tilts slightly. “Are you sure?” He asks. “Not even if it’s a high score?”

“Y-yeah, I’m sure.” You insist, slipping from the side of the table to the back of the group. You don’t want to see their faces in the fear that their expressions will give their true feelings away. In fact, you don’t even want to hear any debates they might have with each other. They’ll say nice things, you’re sure of it, but you don’t know if you’ll believe them.

You don’t know if you want to believe them.

While the boys are distracted by your pumpkin, you wordlessly slip away. It’ll only be for a minute or two. That should be more than enough time for them to get bored of your pumpkin, right?

The pumpkin station feels fuller than it did before. While that makes moving around a bit more difficult than before, it also makes it easier to blend in. Sure, you might be weary of tripping over your skirt at any given moment but at least that gives you something else to worry about. For now, anyway.

As you do your best to distract yourself from everything you don’t want to be thinking about, something particularly catches your eye. Something, no, someone has just rounded the corner into the backyard of the house. While you wouldn’t normally care about that sort of thing, this particular house belongs to two power ninjas wearing molecules and carrying clipboards -and as far as you could tell, the person who rounded the corner was not of that description.

You peer over your shoulder at the boys in question. They’re still discussing the status of your pumpkin. It looks like it’s fun, too. You shouldn’t interrupt them. Besides, checking whether or not the backyard is safe is as quick as checking if the side gate is closed. Simple!

The lights grow dimmer as you approach the side alley of the house. Though you attempt to ground yourself by listening to the sounds of chatter behind you, doing so becomes rather difficult with the sound of your own heartbeat slowly creeping up on you.

Why are you getting so scared anyway? There’s a bunch of people within dashing distance. If there really is someone poking around at the back of the house then you can go back for reinforcements. This is just a quick check-in! You doubt it’ll even take up more than a minute of your time.

But as you round the corner to check the side gate, you’re met with the devastating sight of darkness. 

You should really tell Travis and Dante to install a light or something.

Still, the plan remains all the same. Just go forward and check if the gate is closed. If it’s closed, great! All is well and you can rest easy knowing you were just seeing things. And if it’s not closed, then… well, you can worry about that later.

A chill suddenly travels down your body. Has it always been this cold out? You suppose it’s gotten a lot colder since you first put on the dress. You probably didn’t notice because you were surrounded by so many people! Yeah, that’s why…

As you slowly reach the edge of what little light illuminates the alley, you stick out your hand to feel for the fence gate.

Just a little further now.

Just a tad bit further.

Just how far do you have to go to reach the damn- oh. There it is.

The wooden gate is cold against your fingertips. Just for good measure you give the door a slight shove. It shakes but it doesn’t give. That’s good. It’s still locked and… and you’re still here. In the dark on your own.

Well, you thought you were on your own.

A warm hand touches the exposed skin of your shoulder, causing you to reel back as an involuntary yelp pushes past your lips. You’re about to scream bloody murder when you stare into the face of a Zombie, only to realise who’s actually standing beside you.

“Zenix!” You shout in a mix of relief and frustration. “What the heck are you doing over here?!”

“What am I doing over here? What are you doing over here?!” You can’t really make out Zenix’s expression in the darkness but the boy’s tone is more than enough to convey his own confusion. “Why are you walking around in the dark by yourself??”

“I thought I saw someone go around the corner!”

“So your first instinct was to follow them? Why would you do that?” Though at first his voice begins to raise, Zenix’s tone of voice quickly begins to mellow out. Mellow for him, anyway. Even in the darkness you can see him raising his hand to your forehead. “That’s how people die in horror movies, dummy.”

“Ow-!” You exclaim half-heartedly. “Why did you flick me?”

“Because you were being stupid.”

“I-” You stop yourself, unable to form a real response. He’s right. You didn’t have to come over here by yourself. You just… did. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

Zenix is quiet for a moment. There’s almost no doubt in your mind that he’s holding back from beratement of some sort. You couldn’t even blame him if he were to berate you. Perhaps that’s why you were so shocked when Zenix asked a simple “are you okay?”

“Wha- me?” You echo in confusion. “I’m fine.”

“Then let’s go already.” Zenix reaches for your hand once again, but it’s different this time. It almost feels… gentle? You’re not really sure but you go along with it. After all, he came all this way for you. If he’s willing to do that then-

“Ow-!” You exclaim once again, though this time it’s because you’ve accidentally walked right into Zenix’s back. The moment he lets go of your hand you step out from behind him. “Zenix, why did you stop… walking…?”

“Yeah Zenix. Why’d you stop walking?” Dante asks, staring at the two of you with what you can only assume is a mix of suspicion and irritation. “Scared because you got caught?”

“Got caught doing what?” Zenix challenges the blue haired boy. “I wasn’t doing anything illegal.”

“Tresspassing is illegal.”

Before either boy can instigate further, you step between them. “I thought I saw someone rounding the corner earlier. Zenix came with me to make sure I stayed safe. That’s all.” Despite your explanation Dante still looks a bit concerned.

“Did you guys find anyone?” Interrogates Dante, though his tone is noticeably softer now that he’s addressing you.

“Thankfully no.” You say, though you’re not sure if you’re relieved by it or not. “Must be the spirit of Halloween getting to me.”

“Uh-huh…” The boy nods slowly, his eyes jumping between you and Zenix. “And that’s all that happened?”

You nod. “That’s all.”

“And you’re okay, right?”

“All good.” You confirm with your best attempt at a reassuring smile. “I do have a bone to pick with you, though! Why don’t you have lights on the side of your house?!”

The sudden shift in conversation throws Dante for a loop. He gives you a strange look before shaking his head. “We do have motion sensor lights. Look-” The blue haired boy walks around you and Zenix, raises his hands and shakes them around a bit. Sure as day, the lights flick on and illuminate the three of you in an instant. “See?”

“Wha- then how come they didn’t go off earlier?”

Zenix leans down and mutters “Maybe he doesn’t know how they work,” but you quickly put a stop to his antics with a slight nudge to the chest.

Dante, on the other hand, pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Oh!” He turns the phone around for you to see. “The sensors only turn on after 9pm.”

“Of course they do.” The words bubble up in a mix of contempt and bitter self-irony.

“Dante! There you are!” The sound of Travis’ voice causes all three of you to turn back toward the main driveway. For a moment the boy looked a bit taken aback, but he quickly regained his composure. “Oh, good! You found Zenix. We’re about to announce the winners of the pumpkin carving contest. Not to give the results away, but you’ll probably want to stand close to the font, Zenix.”

Zenix snickers to himself. “Of course I will. I already know my pump-zee is winner material.”

“Riiight.” Dante drags. You don’t even have to see the boy to know that he’s rolling his eyes. You, Zenix and Travis start to emerge from the side of the house when Dante pipes up. “Actually Travis, could you announce the winners on your own?”

Travis turns his head to face his friend. “No yeah, I can do that. You doing okay though?” 

“Huh? O-oh, yeah. I’m good. I’m just… I’m kinda thirsty?” Dante explains. “You guys go ahead. I’ll catch up with you later.”

Though the other two boys continue forward, you hang back. “I think I’m going to go with Dante. I want to get a strawberry puff before they’re all gone.” You turn back to look at Dante. “That’s okay with you, right, Dante?”

Dante meets your gaze for a moment but quickly looks away. “Yeah, that’s fine. We’re both going the same way so we might as well keep each other company.”

“Cool!” You smile at the boy before facing Travis and Zenix once again. “See you guys later?”

While Travis immediately replies with a quick goodbye, Zenix isn’t as quick. You get the feeling that he has something on his mind but the words never make it past his lips. You’ll probably follow up with him later. If it’s important, he’ll tell you.

As soon as Zenix rounds the corner, you turn your attention back to Dante. “Shall we?” You ask, motioning toward the main street. “If we wait too long then they might run out of strawberry puffs.”

“Right…” Dante chuckles to himself, though not all of the tension leaves his body. “Let’s go.”

Silence fills the empty space between you and Dante. While you’re not particularly bothered by it, you can tell that the silence only adds to the weight of whatever’s on Dante’s mind. Would it have been better to stay at the pumpkin contest? You’ve always thought of Dante as an extrovert so you assumed your presence might comfort him, but perhaps you misjudged the situation.

“Do you-”

“Are you-”

You and the boy manage to start and interrupt each other at the same time. The awkwardness of it all causes you to laugh at yourself, and it appears that Dante follows suit. “You can go first.” You softly smile at the boy.

“Oh… alright then…” Dante clears his throat, his eyes darting between you and the path ahead. “I was gonna ask if you were cold. You know… cause it’s the middle of fall and your outfit is pretty light.”

“You mean my dress?” You comment, looking down at your outfit and its seeming lack of layers. “I thought I’d be a lot colder, but Lucinda really knows how to pick an outfit. She actually made me put on a few layers, see?”

You pull the neckline of your dress off your shoulders to reveal the compression shirt beneath. As you reveal what lies beneath, however, Dante’s immediate response is to look away. You think you might’ve heard him stifle a cough of surprise but teasing him about that might be going a bit too far.

“You can look.” You assure the boy, “It’s just a compression shirt.”

The boy glances over rather cautiously at first. Once he knows you’re not just teasing him, Dante finally turns his attention back to you. “Oh, wow.” Utters Dante. “I didn’t know they made low-cut compression shirts like this. Square neckline too, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty nice. Though when I think about it, this is probably closer to shapewear than a compression shirt. Not gonna be working out in something like this anytime soon. Or ever.” You can’t help but pull your undershirt a little further up your shoulder as Dante admires the fabric. “In any case, I can see why Lucinda told me to wear it. I barely notice it at all.”

“This is one of Lucindas’ shirts?”

“Yeah. As is the rest of this outfit.”

“Oh, so when you said she chose it for you, she really chose everything, huh?”

A quiet laugh escapes you as you pull the dress back to its original position. “Yeah, she really did. I don’t mind though. She has a great eye for fashion.”

“Lucinda has a very chic sense of style. It’s very fitting for her bold and brazen personality.” Dante explains, his gaze drifting slightly upwards as he does. “What she chose looks good on you, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t think her clothes match you very well.”

You swallow your initial reaction and force a smile, tilting your head as you glance over at Dante. “No?”

“No.” Dante confirms. “When I think about you, I don’t usually picture you as someone who pushes the envelope. It’s more like… you’re warm. Yeah. Soft and comfortable. Someone easy to be around, and who allows others to let their guard down. That sort of thing.”

“Dante, I-” You pause for a moment, unsure of what to make of what the boy has said. Despite how he tries, you know he’s not much of a flirt. Rather, Dante is… being sincere? It’s not like he’s incapable of sincerity but, well, you suppose you didn’t expect something like this from him. Not just from him, but from anyone. “I didn’t realise you had such an eye for fashion.”

Dante’s head snaps over to you, though he downplays the action by shaking his head. “No, not really. I was just spouting random nonsense.”

“I’m not just talking about your observations. I was just talking about in general.” You lean into Dante for a moment, nudging the boy with your shoulder before standing upright again. “Everytime I see you, you’re always wearing something new and trendy. But it’s not just new or trendy, it’s always very… dapper.”

“Dapper?”

“Not that you’re old or anything! But like, you always wear clothes that elongate your form. The jackets you wear tend to define your broad shoulders pretty nicely, too. Oh! And the colours are always on point. Seasonally too, I might add.” You admit, silently aware that the boy is staring right at you. While your impulse is to throw in a comment about the boy’s monocle from earlier, you resist it. That’s the least you can do for him, right?

But as Dante remains speechless, you can’t help but look over at him.

“What?” You ask, a small laugh bubbling up inside your throat.

After a beat of silence, a smile begins to form at the corners of Dante’s lips. “Nothing.” He assures you, gently redirecting his gaze back to the path ahead.

“Oh come on, I know what you’re doing. That’s the classic ‘no-look-pass’ you always did in the arcade!” Despite how you feign distress, you can hear your own smile in your tone of voice. “There’s no point in trying to hide what you’re thinking.”

“I’m not hiding anything.” Dante raises his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just a guy walking over to the refreshments table.”

“A power ninja walking over to the refreshments table?”

Dante peers over at you for a brief moment, his smile fully revealed, before nodding his head. “Exactly. A power ninja walking over to the refreshments table.”

“Oh my gosh, Dante. You’re such a dork.”

“Says the girl who stood and watched me as I attempted to beat her high score.” Dante retorts as if he’s right on the brink of laughter. “And in case you forgot, I never did.”

You nod your head, smiling as you laugh. It’s been so long since you last thought about your summer in the arcade. Yes, it was your first job, but you never thought of it as very important. A customer service job like that was just a means to an end, yet somehow it managed to become more than a simple arcade. Not literally since that arcade has been shut down for more than a decade, but still. Despite everything that happened around that time, you’re glad you still remember it. It’s when you met Dante, after all.

As you and Dante arrive at the food stands, you can’t help but steal glances at the blue haired boy. You’re happy he turned out as well as he did. He was always so worried about messing up; always focused on one thing when his mind was stuck on another. To be fair, you know he still worries about anything and everything, but things like that never really go away. Not for him, and certainly not for you.

Thinking about it now, you suppose that’s the reason why you gravitated toward him in the first place. You and Dante were kind of similar back then; just two youths being thrust into the jaws of life without a clue as to why. 

Uncertain as it all was, having him there was… different.

No, not just different. While life was hectic and uncertain, Dante was consistent. Not for you per say, you know he loved the arcade and its games, but he was always there. 

Despite how his company only lasted the length of one summer, it was a summer that lived near and dear to your heart. You doubt he feels the same and you’d never tell him as much, but Dante is the reason why you… Dante inspired you.

“Strawberry puff?”

You blink a few times, your eyes settling on Dante’s grin-adorned face. It takes you a moment to realise that the boy is holding the aforementioned strawberry puff for you to take. “Thank you, Dante.” You take the small dessert with a smile. “You didn’t have to get it for me, you know.”

“I know. I just…” Dante’s grin softens at the corners before he turns away. “It’s not a big deal. I know you said you wanted one, so I grabbed it for you. The last one too, by the way.”

Despite the teasing retort that sits on the edge of your tongue, you instead smile at the boy with a quiet “thank you.”

If the look on his face is anything to go off of, Dante also expected a witty retort of sorts. “Not going to ask if it’s poisoned first?” The boy inquires. It appears as though he’s masking his true feelings with a quiet laugh, but something stops him. After what looks like a lot of internal contemplation, Dante finally says, “thanks for coming with me.”

While you smile at the boy on instinct, you can’t say you don’t feel a little caught off guard. “I’m sure anyone would’ve done the same.”

“I mean, maybe, but I just meant-” Dante cuts himself off for a moment, subtly biting down on the corner of his lips. “It’s different, you know? I don’t usually… we don’t usually… I mean, I’m not used to someone keeping me company. I know I live with Travis and all, not to mention how I live next door to Garroth and Laurance, but it’s like I said. It’s different.”

Your breaths are slowly getting heavier in your chest but you can’t quite seem to pull yourself away from the conversation. “Different how?”

Dante shakes his head as a nervous laugh bubbles up from his chest. “Come on, you’re not really gonna make me say it, are you?” The boy asks as he shifts his weight from side to side.

Of course you’re not going to make Dante spell it out. You already know what he’s going to say. After all, you’re not friends with Dante the same way he’s friends with everyone else. You’re just you - just a girl who happened to work at his favourite arcade.

Even so, the tightness in your chest makes it difficult to find the right words. Could it be you’re waiting for Dante to say something? No, there’s no way. What could he possibly say that you don’t already know? And even if he did say something unexpected, you’re not sure you want to hear it.

You shake the thoughts from your mind and finally meet Dante with a smile - the kind that falls short before they reach your eyes. “You’re not about to tell me that you and the boys are actual power ninjas, right?”

Dante stares at you for a moment, biting back the words he wanted to say, before laughing into his sleeve. “No, but I wish that were true. Could you imagine how much cooler I’d be?”

“Yeah.” You hum with a nod. “You’d be at least twenty percent cooler.”

“Only twenty percent?”

You make a show of thinking to yourself before finally giving the boy his answer. “Okay, since you did give me the last strawberry puff, I’ll say fifteen percent cooler.”

“What?!” Dante gasps, crossing his arms as he feigns disappointment. “Why did my coolness factor go down?”

“Because-! If you got any cooler then I doubt anyone would be able to complete. Other than me, of course.” You pop the last of the strawberry puff into your mouth and scrunch up the napkin that remains. In an attempt to prove your point, you throw the balled-up napkin at the trashcan sitting on the edge of the driveway.

You miss.

Dante laughs. “And you say you’re cooler than me.”

“I didn’t say I was cooler than you. I said that no one would be able to compete.” Though you protest the boy’s words, the smile on your face likely betrays you.

Before the boy can comment on this, you pivot and head toward your unintentional litter. It shouldn’t take you that long to pick up the napkin and throw it into the trash but there’s something odd in the air. It feels heavy - suffocatingly so.

As you reach down for the napkin, a bony hand juts out from behind the large trashcan and grips your wrist tightly.

Your internal panicking quickly becomes external when you realise the bony hand is attached to the body of a skeleton. In fact, that skeleton was one of the decorations Lucinda conjured for the halloween party a few hours ago. Why is it alive?!

The skeleton grips at your arm with a surprising amount of force - hard enough to leave bruises, you reckon. You’re about to look around to see if anyone might be controlling the skeleton, but that’s when it starts pulling. The first tug hardly does anything, but the second nearly drags you off your feet.

And then your eyes are shrouded by darkness.

Your eyes are open, you’re sure of it, yet you can’t see a thing.

“Dante!” You call out for the boy but you’re hardly even sure that the words have left your mouth. Any sounds are being drowned out by the thud of your heart and the ringing in your ears.

The skeleton keeps pulling on you, each tug causing you to stumble further away from the driveway. You try to force tear yourself free from the skeleton’s grasp but in doing so you drop your skirt.

The tugging combined with the long skirt causes you to trip over your own feet, allowing the damned decoration to start dragging you across the floor.

Just when you feel the skeleton’s grip loosen from your wrist, a second grip latches onto your free hand. As hard as you try to tear yourself away from its grasp, you can’t.

Your voice pours out in a stream of curses and cries for help.

Why is this happening?

Where are these skeletons dragging you?

Who’s doing this to you?!

For a moment the dragging stops, but two warm hands suddenly grasp your shoulders tightly. You try to pull away but the grip remains strong. You can’t get away. They won’t let you.

But then you hear it. 

That familiar voice. 

He’s calling you.

“G-gene? Is that you…?” Though your body still resists, you force yourself to stop squirming. “W-where’s Dante? What’s happening? Why is it so dark? Why can’t I-?”

“I don’t know what happened, but I’m here now, okay?” The boy, who you can only hope is Gene, utters. “Just- try to stay still, yeah?”

“Gene.” A second voice, a woman, calls the boy’s name in a flat tone. “Move over.”

When the boy’s grip on you loosens, you instinctively reach forward and latch onto the cheap fabric of a Halloween costume. “Please… don’t let go of me…” You can’t stop the tremble in your voice, nor the shaking of your hands.

The boy hesitates, his hands lingering on your shoulders with what you could only describe as concern. You doubt he’ll leave you but you… you don’t know if you want to take that chance.

Eventually the boy lets go of you and another person, presumably Sasha, sits in front of you. You try to listen for Gene’s presence but his heavy footsteps are drowned out by the sound of your thundering heartbeat.

Where is he going? Why is he leaving you?

You want to call him back but you refrain from doing so. He seemed a little… frustrated. Anyway, it’s not like you’re alone anymore. At the very least, you know that Sasha is sitting right in front of you. That should be enough.

It isn’t.

Sasha’s fingers are cold against your face as she gently lifts your chin. “Can you open your eyes?” The girl asks.

You comply, at least you think you comply, and allow the girl to look at your face. Not that you have any real idea of what’s going on. Even so, you can only imagine how pitiful you must look right now.

Eventually Sasha removes her hand from your chin and you instinctively hold yourself, wrapping your hands around your upper arms in self-comfort.

“The whites of your eyes are completely blacked out.” The girl utters. “You’re inflicted with blindness.”

“Can it be fixed?” You ask.

“It should fix itself in ten minutes or so.” The girl explains. “The effects of a potion are never permanent.”

“Right…” Your grip on your arms tightens for a moment, but then you feel the warmth of another press up against the side of your body. The fabric of a cheap halloween costume is unmistakable, but you can’t say it feels like it’s a vampire costume. Then again, what would you know about the feel of a vampire costume? 

Cape or no cape, knowing someone is sitting beside you eases some of the tension in your chest. It's… probably Gene.

While you know it isn’t much, feeling Gene against your arm brings you comfort; but it isn’t long before that comfort becomes heavy on your mind.

“Gene…?” You whisper the boy’s name quietly in the hopes that only he will hear you.

After a beat of silence, the boy pulls himself slightly closer to you. “I’m here.” Gene replicates your soft tone, though in doing that it becomes difficult to hear him clearly. “I’m here, and I’ll be here until you’re okay.”

A thousand questions come to mind as you sit helpless and blind, yet the only one you can think to ask is “where’s Dante?”

You can feel the boy shift against you as he takes a deep breath. “He’s… around.” He answers, clearly withholding something or other from his reply. “I think he went with Travis to put the skeleton back where it belongs.”

“Back where it belongs?” You try to mask the fear in your voice but it slips through. Of course the boy catches on immediately, but you’re surprised he doesn’t tease you about it. Rather, he softly leans more of his weight against you. Not enough to knock you off balance, but enough that it’s almost… sweet.

“Don’t worry. I won’t let that thing get anywhere near you.” The boy utters, though he suddenly clears his throat despite how clearly he spoke. “It’s staying six feet underground where it belongs.”

“I don’t think Lucinda will like that very much.” You answer.

The boy replies, “I bet she’d like it if she knew how it was used.”

“To scare random passerbys?”

“To hurt you.”

The comment catches you off guard - enough to make you notice yourself leaning into the boy’s warmth. You suppose it’s not inherently a bad thing but… well, you’ve never been that close with Gene. Not physically, anyway.

Blind or not, you’ve never taken Gene as the touchy-feely type. He might get up in your personal space as a means to tease you, but as it is now, it’s easy. Simple, almost.

And yet, a part of you still wishes to pull away.

As though you’d spoken the thought out loud, the boy puts his hand on top of your own. He grasps you gently, his fingers barely withholding from interlocking with your own, before allowing you more space to breathe. He doesn’t pull away completely, but it’s as if he knows what you’re thinking. It’s as if he knows you.

This hand against yours… it feels familiar - which is odd considering you don’t go around holding everyone’s hands all of the time. There might only be one person you know who would be bold enough to pull something like this.

Though his name sits on the tip of your tongue, it doesn’t quite get past your lips. You don’t want to be wrong. Not again, anyway.

“Hey…” You start, noting the way the boy shifts. Judging from how his arm briefly brushes against your own, you imagine he’s looking right at you. “I um… I hate to say it but you were right.”

There’s hesitation from the boy but he covers his tracks swiftly with a quiet hum. “I know I am. I’m rarely wrong. Care to admit what we both already know?”

“I didn’t want to admit it before, but you were right.” You start, listening as your companion takes a sharp breath. “I didn’t wear this outfit because Lucinda told me to. I did it because I didn’t want to wear the costume I’d made.”

“The one from your idol anime?” He clarifies.

“Yeah…” You admit. “That one.”

“But you worked so hard on it. It looks so good, too!”

“I know, I just…”

“...oh. Right. The group thing…” A sigh escapes the boy and his grip on your hand relaxes. “Still, why didn’t you just admit that in the first place?”

“Because…” You pause for a moment, barely holding your breath as you search for the right words to say. “It never came up in conversation.”

“You mean you were too nervous to admit it?”

“I mean I never talked about it with Gene. Only with you, Laurance.”

The boy goes silent, his hand twitching against your own. You hear him take a sharp breath, multiple times, even, but he never commits to anything in particular. Were you wrong? Is this not Laurance? No, it has to be. He’s the only one who… the only person who likes to hold your hand this way.

You blink a few times but nothing about the darkness changes. Even so, you turn to face the boy with your eyes open.

“It’s okay. I know it’s you.” You finally confess. “You don’t have to pretend to be Gene.”

The boy exhales a quiet sigh as his body shifts away from yours. “I’m sorry, I just… I thought you’d feel safer if it was Gene who came to your aid. I mean, I’d feel safe with him around so I couldn’t blame you if you felt the same. Not to mention how he ran to help you when he heard you were in trouble while I just-”

“Laurance…” The boy’s name slips from your lips a little too easily so you try to play it off. “I feel safe with you, too. I’m really glad you came. I mean, could you even imagine what it would be like if Lucinda stumbled across me in this state by myself?”

“Gosh… I think we’d have to get Katelyn and Garroth to restrain her. That woman doesn’t play around when it comes to her friends.” Laurance chuckles at the thought, and you’d be remiss if you didn’t at least smile.

The cold air of the breeze pricks at your blinded eyes and you suddenly remember that you have them open. Though you blink a few times, the stinging doesn’t seem to go away. On instinct you begin to rub your eyes with the palm of your hands but that requires pulling away from Laurance. You don’t really notice it at first, but you certainly realise it when the boy gently cups your cheeks between his hands and slightly tilts your head back.

Despite how gentle he’s being, you’re taken aback.

Maybe it’s because you’re blind or maybe it’s because the adrenaline has finally started to subside, but the way Laurance holds you feels… different than before. You’re used to Laurance playing things up for the bit, but there’s no bit now. 

Right now it’s just you and him, and right now he’s so-

“Oh!” You suddenly gasp, causing the boy to pull his hands from your face. “I can see again!”

“You can?” The boy asks, watching as your eyes pop open with less of  the inky black that previously clouded your eyes.

You blink a few times in the hopes that might clear your vision completely, but you’re still finding it rather difficult to see. Anything farther than a foot away is practically lost to the darkness.

What isn’t very far, however, is Laurance.

You expected the mix of surprise and relief visible on his face, but there’s one more thing hidden beneath it all; something he manages to mask before you’re able to understand it. For a moment you think to question him but ultimately decide not to. It wouldn’t be fair of you to pry.

Instead you meet the boy with a smile, nodding your head as you give your reply. “Yes, I can see again. It’s not perfect, but it’s a whole lot better than what it was before.” You try blinking the darkness away but again, your field of vision remains limited.

“Are you going to be okay like this?” Laurance asks. “It doesn’t seem like the potion has worn off yet.”

“Maybe not fully, but Sasha said that I-”

“I know what Sasha said. I just-” The boy starts, surprising even himself by how he cut you off. He takes a moment to clear his throat before continuing. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. You’re important to me.”

“It’s Halloween! Nothing truly bad is going to happen to me. Sure, I might’ve experienced a few jumpscares in the past hour but it’s probably because I’m getting in my own head! I’m sure I’ll stop psyching myself out as soon as I get through that damned haunted house with Lucinda.” You try to play off Laurance’s concern as less than what it is but his expression shows more than you want to admit. Or perhaps it’s you who’s giving away more than you meant to.

As Laurance reaches his hand toward your shoulder, your own hands come in comfort instead. Though you try, you can’t ignore the way Laurances’ brows raise, nor can you pretend you don’t see his hand twitch away from your own.

“You know what?” You suddenly start, your eyes trailing around Laurance, but never lingering on him for too long. “I saw Ivan earlier in the night. He jumped out of a bush! Can you believe that? He looked really proud of himself for it, too.”

“I-”

“I guess it wasn’t enough that he cheated on Lucinda. I bet he’s going around doing who-knows-what just because she’s the one who organized everything.” Though you attempt to laugh, it doesn’t stop the words from spilling out. “Doesn’t he understand how hard she’s worked? How hard it was for her to get this far? What right does he have to impose his own feelings onto her? Why can’t he just leave?! Everything would be so much better if he just-!”

You stop yourself by biting down on your tongue, though any pain you might’ve felt is shallow compared to the grip you have on your own shoulders.

“Sorry.” You apologize and stand up. “I think I should go.”

Even when you hear Laurance calling your name as he chases after you, and even when you bump into several people getting away, you don’t turn around. You don’t want to see the look on his face. Especially when it would be confirming everything you already know.

But that’s just the thing, isn’t it? You don’t know. In fact, you’re not sure you’ve ever known a thing about anyone or anything. You hardly even know yourself.

Why get so upset over a boy whose name you only learned a few weeks ago? Because he cheated? Boys like that are a dime a dozen. Is it because he hurt Lucinda - the one person you’ve allowed yourself to call a friend since who-knows-when? Maybe that’s a part of it, yes, but you know that doesn’t explain it all.

Not the frustration, the outbursts, nor the resentment. It’s all just so-

No. You won’t say it. 

You can’t.

You keep weaving your way through the crowd until someone grabs onto your arm. Though you try to shake yourself free, their grip remains steady.

“Let go of me, Laurance.” You demand, still attempting to free yourself.

The boy is quiet for a moment before erupting in a quiet but amused laugh. “Woah there, your highness. I’m not trying to hurt you.” The voice is unmistakably Gene’s. “Though judging from that reaction of yours, the same can’t be said about that lover-boy Laurance.”

“Gene…” You remain still as Gene releases his grasp on you. “It’s not like that.”

“Oh? Then what is it like?” Gene hums as he slowly trails around you. “Just out for a jog? I take it your eyes are all fixed up if you’re stomping around like this. Or maybe they’re not, considering how many people you’ve bumped into.”

You keep your gaze pointed toward the ground as the boy circles you. It isn’t long before you’re staring down at Gene’s shoes as they stand across from your own.

Though the boy calls your name, you don’t look up. He’s surprisingly patient with you, but you know his patience doesn’t last forever. Eventually the boy uses his finger to lift your chin so that you finally meet his gaze.

“Did he hurt you?” Gene suddenly asks, catching you by surprise.

“Laurance?” You clarify, but the twitch in Gene’s expression makes you wish you hadn’t. “Of course not! You know he’d never do something like that to me.”

“Not normally, but maybe under some less-than-extraneous circumstances he would.”

“Less-than-extreous-?” Your face scrunches in confusion at Gene’s specific wording. “Gene, what are you talking about?”

The boy holds your gaze for a moment, his hand drifting away from your face as he pushes aside the loose strands of your hair. “Your eyes…” he mutters, his expression unreadable as he stares at you. “I knew I should’ve stayed with you. That good-for-nothing brother of mine couldn’t even do a goddamn thing.”

“Dante?” There’s a slight pang in your chest when you see Gene’s expression go slightly sour at his brother’s name. “Come on, Gene. Don’t be like that. I’m sure Dante is trying his hardest.”

“And that’s clearly not hard enough! If he’d just been there! No, if he and Laurance hadn’t been so stupid in the first place then-!” The boy uses his hands to massage his temples as he takes a deep breath. “Nevermind. It’s been a long night.”

Your chest tightens as you watch the boy in front of you. You need to say something, anything, to reassure him, but it’s hard. He knows the parts of yourself that you’ve tried to bury. If you’re not careful, you’ll know them, too.

You take a breath and steel your nerves.

“Gene.” His name comes out softer than you expect. “I’m okay.”

The boy glances up with that knowing look of his. “You keep saying that.”

“Because it’s true.”

“No it’s not.” The boy states. “You were crying. You were scared.”

“I know.” You reply. “But there’s nothing wrong with getting a little scared every once in a while. It is Halloween, right?”

“Maybe that’s how it seems to everyone else, but the fact that you were scared isn’t the real issue, is it?” The boy suddenly quips. “You were dragged. Hell, you went blind! After all that, you should know better than to tell yourself that you were just scared.”

“I-” Your attempts to justify yourself get caught in your chest. You can’t deny it, and you know you won’t. He knows you won’t. You just… you don’t want anybody to worry about you. “Okay. You’re right. Can we drop the subject now? Please?”

Gene holds your gaze. You can’t help but feel like he’s searching your eyes for something. Hesitance? Uncertainty? You’re not really sure.

What you are certain of is his intent. You can’t say it feels malicious or schemey, but it’s purposeful. Almost like he’s looking for a reason to justify whatever thoughts might be running through his mind.

The boy eventually gives way to his thoughts, turning his gaze and shoving his hands into his pockets. In that same instant, you can’t help but release the breath you’d been holding.

Though your instinct is to reach out and comfort the boy, you don’t. You know he only wants what’s best for you, but it’s hard to comply. And even if you did try, you’re certain your attempts would only preoccupy Gene further.

“Hey…” Gene suddenly addresses you, “you know that you can come to me with whatever you want, right? I won’t judge you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You curve your lips into a smile in hopes that the action will reassure the boy. Eventually you take a deep breath and clasp your hands together, turning away from Gene and toward the rest of the street. “So! What to do now…”

You can hear the boy shuffling around before letting out an amused sigh. “No clue, princess.” He chimes. “Though perhaps her highness would like to take a stroll about the town?”

“Good Irene, not you too.”

Gene chuckles to himself. “Not a fan of costume-appropriate nicknames?”

“Depends on the name.” A new smile begins to tug on your lips as you glance over at the boy. “Wouldn’t you agree, Count Von Count?”

“Like I haven’t heard that one before.” Gene mutters to himself as he rolls his eyes. His attempt at seeming offended is dampened by the smile that stretches across his lips. “I bet you think you’re so funny.”

“I can be.” You don’t bother hiding your own amusement. “Now come on. I’ve been meaning to check out this one stall all night, but I-”

“There you are!”

You turn your head to see Dante approaching at a rapid rate. There’s an odd pang in your chest as the boy draws near. Nevertheless, you greet him with a smile. “Here I am. I’m assuming you were looking for me…?”

“I was.” Dante admits. He doesn’t quite walk all the way over to you and Gene. Dante’s eyes flit over to Gene, yes, but he hardly tries to close the distance. If anything, you think Dante might be avoiding Gene when he looks over at you. “Hey! Um, Lucinda said she was looking for you. Something about the haunted house. Do you think you could meet her at Garroths’ place?”

Your head tilts in curiosity. “Why is she at Laurance and Garroth’s house?”

“Yeah,” Gene chimes in. “What’s she doing over there?”

“Oh! You know…” Dante swallows thickly before shaking his head. “She’s over there because the boys needed help with something.”

Gene frowns. “And that something would be…?”

“Bro, how the heck am I supposed to know? I don’t live with them anymore. I’m just the messenger!”

“Okay! It’s okay, Dante.” You assure the boy by gently patting his shoulder. “I’m sure whatever Lucinda was helping them with is done now. I’ll just go over there and meet up with her.”

“Wait-” You’re surprised by how quickly Gene grabs onto the sleeve of your dress. “I’ll go with you.”

“N-no!” Dante suddenly pipes up. “You um… Zenix was looking for you. Right! Zenix and Sasha said they wanted to go through the corn maze together. The three of you.”

“The corn maze will be open all night.”

“But they said they wanted to go now. Like, right now.”

“Don’t worry, Gene. You don’t have to hold back for my sake. Go and enjoy your night!” You peel the boy’s hand from your dress and briefly hold it. “I’ll see you two around.”

The boy’s grip falters against your own as he tentatively bites on the corner of his lip. As different as they are at times, you can’t deny that Gene and Dante are brothers.

You wave to the boys as you make your exit. There’s a moment in which you falter, unsure of the state you’ve left the boys in, but assure yourself that it’ll be fine. They’re brothers after all. No two people get along all of the time. That must be especially true with siblings, and you have no place in their brotherly quarrels.

By now your vision has improved dramatically, though you note that it’s not quite back to normal. Still, it’s enough that getting to your desired destination can be achieved with minimal collisions.

The house looks abandoned by the time you arrive. There’s a few people lingering around, yes, but none of them are the people you’re looking for. If they’re not waiting outside, then perhaps they’re still doing something inside?

When you approach the front porch you notice that the hallway lights are on and the door is slightly ajar. There’s no harm in stepping inside, right?

“Hello?” You call into the house. “Lucinda! I’m here! Where are you?”

No verbal response is given to your query but you do hear a box being knocked over in the basement, followed by the sound of someone cursing to themselves. Maybe one of the boys stayed behind while the other two went to grab something?

You slip out of your shoes and start walking deeper into the house in search of the boy. You’re not stomping around, per say, but you’re making it very obvious that you’re inside. You don’t want to scare whoever’s downstairs, after all.

When you reach the top of the basement stairs, you call out for the boys once more.

And then the lights go out.

“Hey! This isn’t funny!” You flip the lightswitch against the wall but nothing changes. “Guys, I know the breaker is in the basement. Turn the lights back on!”

No reply.

Great. Everything is going so great tonight! First Ivan jumps out of a bush, you see someone round the corner at Dante’s, you get kidnapped by skeletons, and now the boys decide to play a prank like this? 

You don’t know if they’re trying to be funny, but you’re not amused. As a matter of fact, you’re not going to play their game. You’re just going to leave!

In a beat you’ve turned away from the stairs and returned to the front door. As you reach for the handle, however, it doesn’t give. You try turning the deadbolt but that doesn’t work. You even turn it the other way just to be sure.

Nothing.

“Guys!” A deep, nauseous feeling begins bubbling up from your gut as you slam your hands against the door. “This isn’t funny! Let me out of-”

A sharp breath rushes through your teeth as you press your back against the front door.

Someone’s watching you.

Where are they?

Keeping your eyes up toward the darkness, you slowly lean down and begin slipping into your shoes. You don’t dare look down. Not while your heart pounds in your ears and your legs tremble from how stiffly you stand.

Something glistens in the darkness and you stop everything you’re doing.

A knife?

Is it a real one, or just a highly convincing fake?

Should you reach for your phone? No, wait, your dress doesn’t have any pockets. You don’t have it. Should you just put on your other shoe? Maybe try the door again?

No.

You just need to get out.

The door to the backyard should be unlocked. Or at the very least, it shouldn’t be jammed. If you run you could probably get outside without meeting whoever thinks this little game of theirs is so funny. But what if you trip and fall? Should you just follow the wall to the door? Or maybe you should just… no.

Screw it.

You jam your foot into your other shoe and take off for the back door. With your eyes trained on the light coming through the glass, you make a beeline for your escape.

In a heartbeat you’ve crossed the threshold of the living room but the back door is locked.

Of course the back door is locked!

You slam the lock down and pull the door open, nearly doing the same to the screen door when someone suddenly grabs hold of your wrist.

In that moment you can’t stop the guttural scream that claws its way out of your throat. You pull, twist, hell, you even try to kick whoever’s grabbing you without a care as to who’s doing it. You can feel bad about it when you’re safe.

One of your kicks makes solid contact with the aggressor, causing them to let go of you and their weapon as they erupt in a fit of coughs.

In an instant you pull open the screen door and flee through the back.

“(Y/n), wait!” The boy in question calls out to you as he chases you down.

It’s Laurance?!

While your mind is quick to process the voice, your body falters at the sound.

People like to say that what the mind can’t remember, the heart never forgets. While you’ve never really liked that saying, you understood it well. After all, there are plenty of things in your life that you wish you could forget. Not just the moments, but the feelings, too.

The fear you feel every time you sit in the back seat of a car.

The anxiety of being left behind as your father goes out to practice.

The dread of those blindingly white walls.

The monotony of ringing phones and clicking keyboards.

And the cold.

You wish you could forget it. You wish you could forget all of it! But you can’t - because even when your mind forgets, your heart will remember.

It keeps on remembering every single second of it.

Why?

Why did you hesitate like that?

It’s because you thought of him, isn’t it?

Your shoe slips off your foot as you step on the hem of your own damn dress. For just a moment you turn around, your eyes locking with a familiar blue pair before slamming shut.

The water hits you and you’re swallowed by the cold.

Your legs get tangled in the fabric of your dress as you try to swim up. The fabric is too heavy. It’s pulling you down. Your entire body is tensing up from the cold. You can’t escape. It’s too hard. You’re too tired.

You’re too tired.

As the cold holds you tight in its embrace, one memory stands out in your mind. It’s not something you often like to think about, but it’s something that has undeniably crossed your mind before.

You wonder if he still…

…thinks about it…

…too…

All of a sudden your eyes are flooded with light and the familiar compulsion to cough bubbles up inside your chest. It isn’t long before you’re coughing up water onto the grass and holding back the urge to throw up.

For a moment you think you hear your name being called. It’s so quiet... 

Is it real?

It’s only when the sound of your own coughing subsides that you realise someone is kneeling down beside you. The feeling of their hand against your back grounds you to reality as your adrenaline slowly comes down.

“Hey,” Their voice is soft as they pull back some of your hair. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here now.”

“Who- Laurance?” You manage between coughs.

“...yeah…” The boy finally breathes out a sigh. “It’s me. Are you-”

“Laurance!” The voice that booms from across the yard is unmistakably Gene, but you’re surprised. He’s so… loud. “You better not tell me you pushed (Y/n) into the pool or Irene help you, you’re-”

“Gene, don’t-” You start, though you’re abruptly interrupted by another fit of coughs. “Don’t take it out on him. It was just an accident.”

“An accident, huh? You call Garroth holding the front door closed an accident??” Gene stops as he reaches Laurance, pulling him off of you and holding him by the neckline of his costume. “You call lying and scheming to scare a friend, an accident?! Tell me, Laurance, what in the hell about this situation am I supposed to see as an accident!?”

“I didn’t have a choice, Gene!” Laurance finally argues back, tearing the wet fabric of his Power Ninja costume out of Gene’s hands. “You saw what Ivan did with those skeletons. If we didn’t do this then Lucinda-”

“Lucinda is a grown woman. She can handle being around her ex for a little while.”

“But she shouldn’t have to!” As quickly as Laurance raises his voice, he lowers it once again. “Neither of them should have to deal with discomfort on their own. Isn’t that why we have friends? To have reliable people to lean on when times are too tough for one person to bear?”

Gene shakes his head, his hands curling into fists before relaxing once again. “And what about when your friends are the reason for your pain? What do you do then?”

“Gene, that’s-”

“Stop defending him, (Y/n).” Gene shuts you down quickly. Almost too quickly. “The pool might’ve been an accident, but everything else?”

“Everything else?” You repeat the boy’s words before turning your gaze to Laurance.

The boy shies away from looking you in the eye. “We just, no, I-” Laurance stops himself as the back gate to the house swings open. Low and behold, it’s Ivan walking over giving Laurance a round of applause.

“Wow. Just, wow.” The boy practically cheers as he walks over to the boys. “The acting, the commitment, and that scream! Man! I don’t think I could top something like that. Not even if I tried.”

Gene mumbles something under his breath as he takes a step toward Ivan, but Laurance stops him by grabbing his arm. This action, however, only serves to amuse Ivan further.

“So hostile Genie-boy! I thought we were friends!” Ivan pulls a pout onto his lips but his expression is far from hurt. “Then again, I guess the same could be said about those four boys and this poor, poor girl. I didn’t think they’d get so mean with it! Who needs enemies when you have friends like this, am I right?”

This time it’s Gene who has to stop Laurance from lunging at Ivan. It doesn’t stop the brunette from glaring at the newcomer though. “A deal’s a deal, Ivan. Leave.”

A deal?

Ivan laughs. “Oh Laurance, you wound me! Not as badly as you wounded her, though, so I suppose I could hold up my end of the deal.”

They made a deal?

“You suppose?”

“I suppose.” Ivan repeats Laurance’s words back to him, grinning. “I still want to see how everything plays out! This neighbourhood has one hell of a soap-opera going on behind the scenes. The best one I’ve seen all year!”

This is all just… some game to them?

Ivan clasps his hands together before motioning toward you. “Which handsome boy will the helpless little damsel choose to be her knight in shining armour? Certainly not either of these guys, but maybe I’m wrong. Maybe guys like you are exactly her type-”

“Stop!” Despite how desperately you try to hold them down, the words you buried start clawing their way out of your mouth. “Every single one of you just needs to stop!”

Despite how desperately your muscles protest, you get up from the floor and stand before Ivan.

“Enough of the scares. Enough of the stress. Enough of you.” You can feel your voice beginning to waver but continue anyway. “You’re the one who messed up, Ivan. You’re the one who needs to take responsibility for his actions! Yet for some reason you keep insisting on your own importance. Lucinda doesn’t need anyone coming into her life to decide what’s best for her, nor is she some damsel who needs saving, so stop treating her like she is. All of you can just-... can just…”

As the words start to get caught in your throat, you turn away and head for the gate. You can hardly mask your tears as you pass the rest of the boys on your way out of the backyard, but at this point don’t have enough energy to try.

What starts as a jog quickly turns into you running from the backyard to the house you share with Lucinda. As soon as the door shuts behind you, everything hits you at once.

The fear.

The anger.

The helplessness.

It’s all there.

And then there’s a knock on the door.

You don’t want to open that door. You don’t even want to know who’s on the other side of that door! But as you fail to pull yourself away from it, the urge to open it persists.

So you do.

And who else is there but Gene?

“Hey.” He starts, his eyes taking in your current appearance all at once.

“Hey…” You wipe the tears off your cheeks as if that might hide the fact that you’d been crying - as if your soaked clothes and hair weren’t already enough to hide your tears.

Gene smiles at you in a way that’s almost sympathetically. “Can I come inside?”

Your fingers twitch against the doorknob as you look up at the boy. You want to say no, and you know if you deny him he’ll respect that, but a part of you wants to reach out. 

You… you don’t think you want to be alone right now.

You wordlessly step aside and allow the boy entry to the house. “Don’t touch anything in the living room. Or in the kitchen. Or in the- actually, you should probably just wait in my room.” You call back to Gene as he closes the front door. “Try not to be too nosy, okay?”

“You know me better than that.” 

You feel the faintest hint of a smile pull on your lips at his reply. You don’t bother trying to hide it. You’re sure that’s more than enough of a response for the likes of Gene.

You’re quick to gather a few things from your room before disappearing into the bathroom. By the time you’re closing the door Gene has just made it to the top of the stairs.

“In a rush?” He asks.

You shrug. “I’ve been terrorized and soaked in frigid pool water. I think a shower is well within my rights.”

“Fair enough.”

The last you see of Gene, he’s peering into your room from the doorway. You try not to think about it too hard. Instead you focus on getting out of your cold-soaked dress and getting under some warm water instead.

As soon as the warm water hits your skin, all your emotions come flooding back to you. It’s not as heavy as it was before, but it’s still potent. Still too volatile to get close to

Maybe focus on something else for now?

No… you’re not sure you want to fall victim to your own mind at the moment.

Then perhaps-

“(Y/n)?” Gene’s voice rings clear in your ears. “It’s been a little while. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” You reply to the boy and shut off the water on impulse. You’re not actually sure how long you’ve been in the bathroom. “I’ll be out in just a minute.” You don’t want to be the reason why he misses out on Halloween. It’s probably best that you get changed quickly so that he can finally-

“Maybe I wasn’t being clear enough before, so let me be clear now. I’m not asking if you’re okay in the bathroom.” Gene clarifies from the other side of the door. “I’m asking about you.”

“Right…” You swallow the lump that’s starting to form in your throat and pull your towel a little tighter around your body. For a moment you glance at yourself in the mirror, but you don’t let your gaze linger for too long. “Well, you know me. I’m doing the best I can.”

You hear shuffling outside the bathroom and it ultimately ends with Gene sliding down his side of the door as he takes a seat on the floor. “You defended Lucinda quite valiantly today. Multiple times, I might add.”

Your fingers twitch against the hem of your towel as you stare silently at the door.

Gene, on the other hand, clears his throat before continuing. “I could always just assume that you were doing your due diligence as a friend and roommate, but I get the feeling that’s not everything.”

“Not everything?” You repeat the boy curiously. “Gene, you don’t… that’s not-”

“True?” Gene’s dry chuckle echoes from the other side of the door. “I might not have known you as long as some of the other guys have, but trust me when I say that I get it. The frustration. The fear. All of that stuff is normal. It’s also pretty normal to worry about the people you care about. You agree, don’t you?”

“I do, but…”

“But what?”

“But it’s different-!” The volume of your own voice shocks you. You’re not yelling or anything, but you shouldn’t be getting so worked up over something like this. At least, a normal person wouldn’t get as worked up as you currently are.

Your gaze falls away from the door and lands on bathroom tiles beneath your feet.

“It’s just… it’s so frustrating to watch someone force their own perception of themself on everybody else. How can you just demand that someone care for you? How can you just presume you’re so important that everyone else is in the wrong? Despite all the wrong he’s done, how does Ivan believe himself to be the victim?! What if-”

Your hand suddenly touches the cold porcelain of the sink, finally making you notice how your eyes have traveled from the ground to the bathroom mirror.

Biting on your bottom lip, you hold your own gaze.

“What if I’m no better?”

“You aren’t. You’re worse.” Gene says it as if it’s but a matter of fact and it causes your gaze to snap over to the door. But just as you open your mouth to reply, Gene beats you to it. “You’re not a narcissist like him, though. You’re a hypocrite.”

Denial boils over in an instant yet the words don’t make it past your lips. You’re certain any anger or irritation toward Gene is justified, but the only feeling that follows your denial is… shame.

You know he’s right. You won’t deny it.

You can’t.

Your hand reaches for the door before you've fully thought it through, the click of the lock disturbing the silence around you. 

For a moment you stare at the handle.

Then, with a frustrated exhale, you finally pull the door wide open.

Gene turns back to look at you, his expression a mix of surprise and curiosity as he gets off the floor. “Woah there. Don’t go doing anything you’ll regret in the morning.” Gene utters as if he’s torn between staring and looking away. He eventually manages to do the latter.

“Yeah right. You wish.” You’re surprised to hear a hint of your own amusement as you push past the boy to get to your room. As soon as the door is shut, you can hear Gene walking over to stand close by.

“I’m not saying you should shut yourself in for the rest of the night, but if you’re going to retreat into your room can you at least give me something to tell Lucinda?” The boy bargains.

“Don’t worry, Count Dracula, I’m not planning on staying inside.” You assure the boy as you rummage around your closet. “Halloween isn’t over yet. It’d be a shame if I didn’t use this opportunity to the fullest, right?”

“And the opportunity you plan on taking advantage of is…?”

“Dressing up.” You explain to the boy, though it’s a little difficult since you’re simultaneously trying to pull on your new costume as quickly as possible. “It’s arguably the best part of the holiday! Not that someone like you needs an excuse to dress all dark and dreary.”

“Ouch. Right where it hurts.” The boy muses from the other side of the door. “You’re really not pulling your punches anymore.”

You pause for a moment. “…sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Gene chuckles to himself from the other side of the door. “If anything, I’m looking forward to seeing more of it.”

More of it?

You scoff and shake your head. “Whatever you say.” After one last glance in the mirror, you pull your bedroom door open and stand before Gene once again. “Ready to head out?”

“Just a minute.” Gene observes your outfit with that familiar grin of his. “This is the outfit you posted on your story, right?”

“Yeah…” You confirm, compulsively looking down at your outfit as you adjust the small details. “It’s nothing fancy. Just an outfit from-”

“Nebula Forming, right?”

You look up from your outfit and meet Gene’s gaze. “Yeah, actually… it is. How’d you know?” Before the boy can reply, a coy smile tugs on your lips. “Hold on, are you telling me that you’ve watched it before?”

“Maybe I have. Maybe I haven’t.” Something between a scoff and a laugh erupts from Gene as he shoves his hands in his pockets. “What’s it to you?”

You ponder for a moment before giving a short reply. “Nothing.” Despite your answer, your smile grows wider as you head for the front door.

The moment you open the door, you come face to face with Lucinda.

“There you are!” Lucinda lets out a sigh as she pushes back some of her hair.. “What happened, girl? I was waiting for you at the haunted house but you never showed up! Did something happen to you?”

You shake your head. “No-! Okay, well, yes, but that’s-” You notice Lucinda’s eyes trailing past you for a brief moment, only for her to look at you with something of a smug look. “Lucinda, no! Whatever you think happened, I’m telling you, it didn’t happen. Gene and I were just-”

“She fell into the pool at Laurance’s place.” Gene states outright. He crosses his arms and leans his shoulder against the doorframe opposite to you. “I take it the boys haven’t told you what they put her through.”

Lucinda’s smug look suddenly shifts to something a bit concerning - a look akin to worry but clouded by something darker. “What happened?”

“Nothing! They just-” You stop as you feel Gene’s shoulder slightly brush up against your own. So, with a deep breath, you reply, “They played a bunch of pranks on me throughout the night, with the last one accidentally resulting in me falling in their pool. But-”

“And they used her as the ruler for their dick measuring contest.” Gene mutters, though with how loud he is you’re pretty sure he wanted to be heard. And he is.

Lucinda’s eyes widened. “They did what?”

“No! That’s not what they did!” You argue. “They made some stupid deal with Ivan. I don’t know the exact details but I’m pretty sure it had to do with scaring me to make him leave. Something like that.”

“That’s why Ivan enchanted my skeletons?! To terrorize you?!”

“It’s not that big of a deal though!” Though you try to argue, Lucinda is having none of it. You’re pretty sure she would’ve ran inside to grab a potion or two if not for Gene blocking the doorway beside you. All of it allows you enough time to grab onto Lucinda’s arm and get her to look at you. “Look, I’m not saying what they did was enjoyable, but their hearts were in the right place. Can you take it easy on them?”

Lucinda holds your gaze for a while and you can feel her eyes examining every micro-expression present on your face. When she finally comes to a conclusion for herself, she lets out a deep sigh.

“Okay,” the girl starts, “but I’m still holding them accountable for the fact that we missed our opportunity to go into the haunted house.”

“Oh, right…” A mix of guilt and relief washes over you as Lucinda mentions the haunted house. Judging by her reaction, she sees your relief, too. Before she has a chance to comment on it, however, you say, “I’m feeling pretty parched. Do you wanna walk and talk on our way over to the refreshment stands?”

Though a bit unsure, Lucinda nods. “Sure. I could use a drink or two.”

You give a small wave to Gene as you and Lucinda make your exit. Though the walk is short, the conversation you have with her is long.

It takes a bit of prodding on Lucinda’s end but you eventually admit to everything. Your dread regarding the haunted house, the scares you’ve been subjected to all night, and most importantly, the conversation you shared with Gene.

Lucinda spends most of the walk alternating between sympathy and outrage, but you somehow manage to keep the conversation light hearted. Mostly. There was a point in which you feared your roommate might dart off in search of some power ninjas, but she ultimately decided not to.

Maybe after everything you went through, the girl didn’t want you to be alone, either.

About an hour goes by with Lucinda at your side. The two of you decide to spend the rest of the night browsing stalls and talking to fellow neighbours. Strangely enough, you don’t seem to run into any power ninjas along the way. At first you think that Lucinda might be purposely avoiding the boys but you quickly come to realise that isn’t the case.

You don’t know where the boys have gone but they’re nowhere to be seen. You try to assure yourself that it’s not a problem, the four of them are grown men, but a part of you worries. That worry finally comes to a head when you and Lucinda run into Zenix and Sasha.

“Hey!” Zenix says as he approaches. “You’re not a pirate anymore.”

“Keen observation, Zom-boy, but not keen enough.” You quip in reply. “I was never a pirate in the first place.”

“Are you sure? Because I could’ve sworn you went- ow!” Zenix jolts away from Sasha as she kicks his heel.

“Don’t mind him.” Sasha insists, her expression hardly shifting from her usual resting face. “We’re looking for Gene. Have you seen him around?”

“We were with him about an hour ago.” Your eyes scan the area before returning to Zenix and Sasha. “But we haven’t seen him since.”

“Really? That’s too bad.” You think you see Sasha flash you a smile but it’s too quick to be sure. “Anyway, I like your costume. Nebula forming, right?”

“Yeah, it is…” You admit. “How did you know?”

“Please.” Zenix rolls his eyes as he shoves his hands into his pockets. “Gene watched that damn idol show, like, a hundred times before subjecting us to its soundtrack. It was the only thing he listened to for a whole year! I swear the guy got possessed or something.”

“He listened to the soundtrack for one week, and he only watched the anime two times - once by himself and once with us. Though, you are right about one thing.” While her tone remains unchanged, Sasha’s expression shifts slightly towards amusement. “That kind of anime isn’t usually Gene’s cup of tea. I was surprised he watched past episode two.”

“Yeah. And then he forced the two of us to watch it with him.”

“Says the guy who cried throughout the entirety of episode eleven.”

“I told you! My allergies were acting up!”

“And what are you allergic to? The emotions of cute idol girls?” Lucinda adds, making both her and Sasha chuckle in amusement.

“It’s okay, Zenix.” You say as you gently nudge the boy. “I cried when I watched that episode, too.”

Zenix opens his mouth to refute you but he very quickly shuts his mouth again. While this causes the other two girls to become further amused, you smile. Not because you’re amused by the boy’s reaction, but because you’re happy.

While you’d be more than happy to call this the end of your evening, something down the street catches the attention of all four of you.

Something that sounds a whole lot like the opening theme to Nebula Forming…?

The four of you approach curiously, but what you see is far from what you expected.

First of all, you quickly realise that the music is coming from a speaker placed on Laurance and Garroth’s front lawn. 

Secondly, the boys have placed a fog machine on the far end of the lawn. By now the small box has created a blanket of fog that spans the entire lawn, though it only reaches as high as your ankles.

Finally, and most obvious of all, is the tall blonde who stands in the center of the field - not as a power ninja, but dressed in a costume that’s three sizes too small. As far as you can tell, he’s one of the five other idols from Nebula Forming - and based on the pink accents of the outfit, you’re pretty sure you know which one.

“Garroth?!” You gasp in disbelief. “What are you… why are you-”

The blond boy turns around and meets your gaze immediately. “Garroth? Who’s that?” The boy talks in a high pitched voice - or rather, he attempts to. “I don’t know who this ‘Garroth’ fellow is, but I’m not him. You’re talking to none other than Lagoon.”

You stand at the end of the lawn, jaw agape in complete and utter disbelief. “What on earth are you doing?” You ask. “Garroth, what is this?”

“I told you before, I’m not Garroth.” The boy approaches you slowly and reaches his hand out towards you. “I am Lagoon, and together we are…”

The boy wiggles his eyebrows at you, waiting for you to finish the line.

As your eyes jump from Garroth’s face down to his hand, and back to his face once again, only one thought crosses your mind.

How could you refuse?

Taking the boy’s hand, you smile. “We are stars in the making.”

The moment the line leaves your lips, Garroth pulls you in and repeats what you’ve said to the crowd. What surprises you, though, is when he turns back to the house with a simple: “Hit it!”

At once the music changes, the front light of the house turns on and the door swings open. From inside that door, all dressed in the various outfits from the show, come Travis, Dante, Laurance and… Gene?!

"Gene?" You stare at the boy as he emerges. "What are you doing here?"

The boy shrugs. "Moral support."

"In a Nebula Forming costume?"

"The moral support required a uniform." The boy explains. “Besides, I can dress dark and dreary whenever I want, right?”

A shameless laugh erupts from your chest as the boys draw near to you. “So like… what is all of this?”

The boys all glance between each other before settling onto Laurance, who steps forward past Garroth to stand in front of you. “You might consider this our apology-”

“-Or just a bunch of friends dressing up togeth- ow!” Dante interrupts Laurance, though in doing so earns a sharp jab from Travis. 

“But we want you to know that we’re sorry.” Laurance apologizes. “We shouldn’t have stuck our noses where they didn’t belong. Not only did we undermine Lucinda, but because of that, you-”

“Laurance…” You hold Laurance’s gaze for a moment, mulling over your thoughts before allowing yourself to speak. “I get it. I think a lot of people would do what you guys did tonight. Well, maybe not the ‘getting chased by a murderer’ thing specifically, but the ‘defending your friend’ thing. Even if that meant… a friend was the target of multiple pranks.” 

“But that doesn’t make it right.”

“That’s true.” You admit. “Even so, I forgive you. I might not forget about it any time soon, but I forgive you. All of you.” You gaze hops from boy to boy, admiring their commitment to the outfits before breathing a sigh. “All’s well that ends well, right?”

You offer Laurance a smile of grace, and he smiles back to you. “Right.”

“By the way, the outfits are great and all, but where did you guys…” you pause for a moment before the realisation hits you. “Don’t tell me you begged KC to-”

“We did.” Dante admits, his face erupting in a deep pink. He quickly attempts to compose himself in your presence but ultimately fails to meet your gaze. “I know it might be a little over the top but I really-... no, we all know how much this means to you.”

“Is that so?” You can feel the corners of your lips turning upwards once again. “Since you all know how much this means to me, I’m expecting something to remember this by. Perhaps some pictures will suffice?”

“Oh, you’ll get your pictures alright.” Laurance assures you as he leads you a few paces down the front lawn. “But first and foremost, we’re here to be your stars.”

Oh my Irene.

You watch in disbelief as the boys line up across the lawn. Travis, who stands at the end of the lawn, taps around on his phone before tossing it out of the way.

For a moment it feels like the world is holding its breath in anticipation.

Then with that familiar rolling drum intro, the boys start their show.

Though the boys stumble and bicker, you recognize the choreography immediately. Your head snaps around to Lucinda as you give her a certain look.

“You gave them my choreography?” You gasp.

Lucinda flashes you a coy smile. “Gene texted me and asked if I could help them out. I thought you’d get a kick out of it.”

As your eyes snap back to the boys, you can’t help but agree with that roommate of yours. Though their moves are far from polished and occasionally fall off the beat, you can only describe the performance as perfect.

It’s funny - this night has gone off the rails in every way you never could’ve expected: From fear to anger, from anger to tears, and now… now you’re laughing so hard it’s getting difficult to breathe! It’s far from what you would’ve considered a perfect Halloween, but even so…

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

No one enjoys Halloween quite as much as Lucinda does. Not even you, her roommate. That’s not to say you dislike Halloween, but honestly, how could you possibly compare your enjoyment for the holiday to the woman who stayed up all night brewing potions to decorate the entire street? She even woke up early to use them! 

A busy afternoon of setting up gazebos, jack-o-lanterns and snacks finally pays off when the clock hits 6pm. You can’t help but want to buy Lucinda a new brewing stand for all the work she did, but when you told her that she took it as an invitation to dress you for the night.

October isn’t the coldest month in the year but it sure feels like it is when you’re dressed in an outfit fit for a renaissance fair. Though you wanted to protest, you did promise Lucinda that you’d wear whatever she got for you. It was, in her words, ‘the least you could do after promising her a new brewing stand.’ You both know that’s not what you meant but you digress. Cold as you may be, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel fancier than usual.

“Lucinda!” You shout, attracting a little too much attention for the number of names you called. You’ve already walked up and down the street two times but still you’ve yet to find the woman who dressed you. “Lucinda, where did you go?!”

“Boo!” A pair of hands clasp onto your shoulders and you’re forced to swallow your fear. “Aw man, I thought I got you for sure.”

“Laurance!” Your face unconsciously scrunches as you turn and recognize the boy who took it upon himself to startle you. “Why did you think that was a good idea?”

An apologetic smile pulls across the boy’s lips. You can’t help but notice a slight shift in his gaze after his eyes have scanned over your Halloween costume. Before you can question the change, Laurance suddenly takes a knee and wraps his hands around one of your own. “My sincerest apologies, fair maiden, but I assure you it’s for the greater good.” The boy is bending down and pressing a kiss against your knuckles before you even have a chance to get embarrassed.

You stand there speechlessly as Laurance continues to kneel before you. As you stare down at the boy a chill runs down your body. You’re not sure if it’s because of the cold or if it’s because Laurance is down on one knee in front of you. Maybe a little bit of both? You want to say something, you really do, but words continue to evade you.

… “You love me?” “I do. With everything that I am and everything I will be, I love you.” “You’ll still love me even though I chose him over you?” “I can’t blame you for that… I would’ve chosen him for you, too.” …

The first thing Laurance sees when he opens his eyes is you. Though your hair is tousled and your face is turned away from him, Laurance can’t help but stare at you in awe. While he doesn’t want to wake you up, Laurance can’t help but snake one of his arms around your waist as he pulls himself flush against your back.

Laurance can’t help but become amused when you unconsciously shift back against him. Even in your sleep you search for his warmth.

“My Love…” The boy utters the words softly against your ear, his fingers dancing across the thin fabric of your nightgown in gentle circles. “The sun has moved well past the horizon. It’s time to bid farewell to this bed of ours.”

You give a quiet hum in reply, barely turning your head in the direction of Laurance’s face. “Just a short while longer. I do not yet yearn to entertain the living.”

“And what about your husband?” The boy begins to pull at your nightwear until his fingers make contact with the skin of your lower stomach. The moment he’s able to feel your skin beneath his, the boy trails his hand right to the curves of your chest. “Might you yearn to entertain him?”

“My husband yearns to entertain himself.” Though your voice is still soft, Laurance knows he’s slowly pulling you from your slumber. “Even after years of commitment, the man still cannot control his roaming hands.”

“Must I?” The boy teases you with a kiss against your cheek. When that doesn’t rouse a reaction from you, he gently pinches you in the way he knows will make you react.

“Laurance Zvahl!” You gasp and immediately grasp your husband’s roaming hand, though notably you do not remove it.

Laurance can’t help but grin to himself as you maneuver your way into turning around. He returns your attempt at a glare with a loving and knowing smile of his own. “Yes, My Love?” He asks ever so sweetly - as if his hand were not latched onto your chest this very moment.

“Does the day so desperately require my presence that I cannot be granted a mere moment of peace?”

“No, the day does not require you so. Your husband, however, does.”

“Good Irene… What did I ever do to become stuck with a man such as you?” You breathe a quiet sigh but the smile that tugs on your lips gives your true feelings away. “So be it. How does my husband require me?”

… “I still miss him. I miss him all the time.” “I know. I miss him too.” “You don’t understand. You didn’t love him the way I did.” “You’re right, I don’t love him the way you do, but you know he wouldn’t have wanted you to live your life like this.” “I know that… it’s just-!” “Hard?” “...the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.” “I know what you mean. It’s hard for me, too.” …

Laurance allows himself to be dragged all over town catering to your every beck and call. From every stall in the marketplace to the bakery on the far side of town, Laurance allows you to pick and choose whichever items tickle your fancy. The two of you don’t normally get this much time together, after all. He’ll be damned if he doesn’t spoil you.

After two long hours of walking around town, the final stop of the afternoon is the flower field located just outside of town.

Laurance watches quietly as you sit amongst a patch of star-shaped blooms. He’s always liked the feeling of the flower’s woolly white petals against his fingertips, but the small buddle of yellow florets in the center leave behind far too much pollen for his taste. Even so, the boy must admit how beautiful you look amongst them.

“Your dress will become dusted with yellow if you sit amongst the flowers for too long, my love. Come. Lest we desire a trip home in the dark, let us return home.” Says Laurance. When you don’t immediately turn to face him, the boy sets his things on the ground and kneels in front of you. “My love?”

You blink up from the flowers to meet Laurance’s gaze. “Yes?”

“I was simply suggesting we take our leave. I wouldn’t want my dear wife to grow too tired to venture home. Then again, the opportunity to carry you home isn’t an undesirable one.”

“Oh… of course.” Your detached response is only emphasized by the way your eyes drift down to the flowers scattered across the field once more. “You don’t suppose you’ll ever grow tired of me, will you?”

“Never.”

“Are you certain?”

When met with your hesitation, Laurance wants nothing more than to scoop you up into his arms and lather you with copious amounts of affection and care. Yet as your gaze drifts further away and your hand begins to pull at his coat, he restrains himself.

“My love for you may very well be the only thing I am certain of!” The boy leans forward and presses a kiss against your forehead, followed by your temple, your nose, and finally your lips. Finally, the boy whispers to you, “even when this heart of mine ceases to beat, I will continue to love you. There’s nothing in the world that could ever change that.”

“...okay.” A soft smile pulls on your lips as you place a quick peck against Laurance’s cheek. Before he can pull you to your feet, however, you make one more request of him - one last place to visit before returning home.

… “Please… please Irene, please-!” “Stop!” “I can’t! I-I musn’t! If I stop then he’ll surely- I can’t let him-” “(Y/n), stop! You have to stop.” “Why?!” “He… he’s already…” …

Laurance walks hand in hand with you through the forest. The trek isn’t silent, but he knows better than to fill the air with too much conversation in a place like this. He knows these paths by heart, though he can’t remember the last time he’s walked them with you. This forest holds too much history.

Before long, the path narrows and the foliage thickens. Lush trees twist together into a near-perfect circle - dense, unnatural, and impossible to pass through by ordinary means. Most travelers turn back or go around, but you don’t. Together, you and Laurance press deeper into the grove.

The closer you get to the center, the more hostile the forest becomes. Branches tangle, undergrowth chokes the ground, and any clear passage disappears entirely. It feels as though the forest itself is guarding something.

For anyone else it would be impenetrable, but not for you.

Hidden among the dense growth, a single flowering shrub stands weaker than the rest. With one clean swing Laurance cuts through it to reveal what lies beyond.

Your grip tightens against Laurance’s as you cross the threshold.

The air is thicker here. No, Laurance doesn’t think that’s quite right. Rather, it’s still. Waiting. Suspended in a moment of time much longer than anyone might think it to be. Even so, the ground is littered with the white flowers from before - a testament to how often the two of you have visited this place.

You and Laurance tread carefully as to not uproot any of the flowers currently in bloom. Once you’re both in the center of the cove, Laurance hands the flowers you’d picked from the field just a few hours earlier.

The boy watches as you place the flowers upon a once familiar face. “How long has it been?”

“I… I don’t know.” You admit. “I can’t remember anymore.”

“The number of years?”

“No, not the years…” Your voice slowly begins to waiver the longer you speak. “I can no longer recall the sound of his voice nor the joy of his laughter. I can’t even-!”

“I know.” Laurance grips your hand tighter in hopes that it might comfort you. In turn, you lean into Laurance. The boy wastes no time in wrapping you in his embrace before uttering a quiet, “I’m slowly forgetting his face, too.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Laurance, Travis, Dante

Enjoys giving you hickeys

Anytime you give him access to your chest there will be a new hickey (it’s his preferred place to bite)

Would love to leave bites where others can see them but he won’t do it unless you’re okay with it

Never bites you too hard - but always hard enough to make his bites dark and distinct

Always asks you to send him pictures of your chest with the express purpose of seeing the hickeys he’s left on your skin

If the bites are fading he’ll definitely give you new ones the next time he sees you

Also enjoys when you leave hickeys on him, too

Isn’t above asking (and begging) for a hickey or two

Lets you bite him in most places, so long as it isn’t an objectively weird place to leave a mark (forehead, knees, etc.)

If the two of you are together in private, he’ll let you bite him whenever you want to

Just know that unprompted hickeys will probably lead to him getting aroused

Blaze, Garroth

Loves to bite you and give you hickeys

When in a long term relationship with him, there’s hardly a time when he leaves you with less than 3 hickeys on your body

He can’t get enough of his lips on your body (respectfully, of course)

Tends to get carried away when giving you hickeys - especially when he’s leaving bites on your upper thighs

Cuteness aggression cranked up to the max = many, many bites and hickeys

Also loves it when you bite him

You never have to ask before you leave a hickey on him

In fact, he prefers when you bite him unprompted 

Absolutely loves when you leave a surprise hickey on his neck

It’s always a good day when you give him hickeys

Gene, Zenix

Likes to, but doesn’t go out of his way to bite you

He doesn’t dislike the idea of giving you hickeys but doesn’t particularly care for it either (outside of the bedroom, that is)

If he knows you particularly like it, he might be more generous with how often he’ll indulge you

He gives in pretty quickly once you genuinely voice your desires for some hickeys

He’ll tease you about it though

Secretly likes when you give him hickeys

He never outright asks you to bite him - he’s far above that

However, that is far from saying he doesn’t like it when you give him hickeys

Occasionally rage baits you into biting him

Will usually let you bite him unprompted so long as you’re not out in public

Vylad, Zane

Doesn’t like to, but will leave you hickeys if you like it

It’s not that he finds it unappealing or childish, he’s just indifferent towards it

If you express clear enjoyment then he will make an effort to leave bites on you - it’s just not on the top of his priorities

He’d much rather cook you a nice dinner or buy you a nice outfit

Still, he’ll always want to give you what you want - even if what you want has him kissing and biting your sensitive skin

Prefers not to be bitten, but will let you if you ask

He doesn’t mind if you bite him gently over his clothes when you’re alone, but if you have intentions to leave a mark then he needs you to let him know

He mostly lets you bite his upper arms and chest, though he’ll occasionally let you bite his thighs if you ask nicely

Occasionally, if he’s in a particularly giving mood, he’ll let you leave as many marks as you want

Later, when he looks in the mirror at what you’ve left him, he’ll be amused - maybe he’ll let you do this to him more often

Ein (With a non-werewolf partner, specifically)

Absolutely loves giving love bites, just not to you

At least, not at first - you’re not a werewolf, after all

Why bother marking his partner if he’s not going to stay? You’re just a means to an end

But he can’t deny how much he loves seeing your skin littered with dark marks from his lips - even if he’d never admit it

If you point out the marks then he'll makes a mental effort to stop, but his efforts only last for so long. He can’t help himself when it comes to you

Does not want to be bitten by you at all

Once again, you’re not a werewolf - don’t go thinking you can leave any hickeys on him

But the one time you do leave a mark, he can’t stop looking at it

He stares, pokes and prods at the mark like a teenager who got their first hickey

It pains him to admit it, but he likes it. Viscerally.

“You feel so damn good but I… I don’t know where to put my hands.” Confesses Zane between shallow breaths and quiet groans. It isn’t long before you pull your lips off of his length with a quiet laugh, making the boy’s face flare up in embarrassment. Even in the midst of such an intimate moment, Zane can’t help love how exposed he feels beneath your gaze.

It hasn’t even been an hour since the boy was caught in the rain on his way home - the icing on the cake to the perfectly-horrible night he was having. If losing his car to the repair shop wasn’t enough then forgetting his wallet was certainly going to be the death of him. What kind of guy goes on a first date in such a pitiful state?! Him, apparently.

Zane wasn’t surprised when his date walked out on him, he would’ve done something similar in such precarious circumstances, but the boy was completely taken aback when a complete stranger offered to cover the bill for him - you covered his bill.

Good things don’t usually happen to Zane. You probably happened to catch a glimpse of his awful date and took pity on him. Ugh… pity - one of the worst things someone could offer another - but a free meal is a free meal. Even if your offer was nothing but pity, Zane wasn’t about to turn you down. Surely this was the least the universe could offer him after having such a horrible date.

And then came the rain.

What was only predicted as 0.1 millimetres of rain turned into a storm of bullets in the form of raindrops. Zane thought he could outspeed the storm but was quickly proven wrong. One missed sign led to two wrong turns and suddenly Zane was completely lost in the downpour. The only thing that could’ve made things worse was to get hit by a car!

Lucky for him, the headlights that approached him weren’t those of a hydroplating car but a concerned passerby. As luck would have it, that passerby was once again you.

Zane knows better than to get into some random stranger’s car but when your clothes are soaked and your sanity is hanging by a thread, getting into a stranger’s car becomes the least of your worries - the least of Zane’s worries, anyway.

What started as awkward small talk quickly evolved to the safest Zane has ever felt in a conversation - with someone who was basically a stranger, anyway. To be honest, the boy isn’t really sure why he opened up to you in the first place. Maybe it’s because he had been having one of the harshest first dates he’s ever experienced (if you could even call whatever happened a first date) but everything about you made Zane feel comfortable.

You were just so gentle.

From the way you talked to the curve of your smile, everything about you filled the boy with a sense of comfort. One could only imagine the boy’s surprise when he suddenly felt the urge to act on his desires.

Zane wanted to hold you. To kiss you. To feel the warmth of your body against his rain-soaked clothes. Even with all those desires swirling in his head, Zane said nothing.

In the end, it was you who asked to close the distance.

He isn’t really sure how it happened but the boy suddenly found himself leaning back in the passenger seat of your car, shivering and drenched with rain while your hand slowly moved up and down the shaft of his cock.

Your gentle smile persists but not without a hint of amusement. “Where do you want to put your hands?”

Zane can feel himself becoming flushed in the darkness of your car. Though he can’t bring himself to answer your question, his eyes give his desires away. Noticing this, it isn’t long before you’ve pulled off your shirt and exposed your chest to the boy. His immediate thought is how plain your bra is, but the thought that follows is how well the garment shapes your body.

There are surely an abundant amount of people more fitting to see the sight that’s been set before him, people who would surely act on their desires without hesitation, but sitting across from you was Zane. No matter how badly he wanted you, he couldn’t bring himself to touch you.

Perhaps that’s the reason why you were the one to guide his hand exactly where he wanted it to be. Surely something like this isn’t right. I mean, compared to him you were- you are the kind of person who can get what you want without a single word. So why is it that his hand was on your chest? Why was Zane allowed to be the person on the receiving end of your affections?

As soon as you pull your hand away from Zane’s, the boy takes his hand off your chest.

Zane is just some guy who was lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time. He’s someone who was lucky enough to receive the attention of someone as amazing as you! Was this a set up? Just a trick to get him to let his walls down? Nothing this good ever happens to guys like him! You must be… surely you’re just…

“Why are you doing this?” Zane’s question comes out as coldly as it does abruptly.

You’re silent for a while, the silence only being filled by the sound of raindrops hitting the roof of your car. When the boy manages to bring his gaze to meet yours he’s surprised by the expression on your face.

“What’s with that look on your face?” Another abrupt question that comes off a little too harshly.

“W-what? Oh, I’m sorry. I just thought that we both…” The confidence you had once felt quickly melts away as you cover up your exposed skin with your hands. So much for thinking you were reading the signs correctly. It’s not like you were ashamed of your desires, but acting on them without being completely sure of how the other person felt was shameful. “Nevermind.”

You turn away from the boy as best you can. Of course you were pushing your luck. What kind of person would want to do such lewd things with a stranger? Especially when they were having a rough night. Way to make it even worse.

It’s only after you feel goosebumps on your arms that you realise how cold the night has become. When you look around in search of your shirt you suddenly realise that it’s been lost somewhere in the darkness of your car. You force yourself to swallow the embarrassed groan that bubbles up in your chest and reach for the light above the center console.

When the light flicks on you’re forced to meet the boy face-to-face. Where you expect to see some sort of scowl is but a look of confusion. Perhaps your first intuition wasn’t as far off as you thought - he’s still hard, afterall.

Still, you’re not one to push a stranger’s boundaries - especially when it comes to sex.

You clear your throat before addressing the boy directly, asking “are you cold?” Though you wait for him to reply you don’t get a response. He looks a little- no, he looks really zoned out.

“Hello?” You ask again, waving a hand in front of the boy’s face to get his attention. When his eyes inevitably focus on you, you force yourself to smile. “Hey, I’m so sorry for making you uncomfortable. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

You can see the boy stiffen at the sound of your voice - or perhaps it’s because of what you’ve said? Either way, it seems like he’s caught between keeping to himself and blurting out any and every thought that crosses his mind.

As you begin to redirect your gaze to the backseat, the boy suddenly reaches forward and turns your face back to his. In a heartbeat you realise his lips are pressed against yours.

It’s sweet and warm - not at all something you’d expect from such a stranger, and especially not something you’ve come to expect after getting to know your companion for the brief… well, for the hour you’ve spent together.

Your eyes flutter closed and you eagerly lean in to return the kiss. It’s not hard to tell how inexperienced the boy is. When you run your tongue against his bottom lip you could swear you heard him yelp. It’s endearing how despite his surprise he constantly moves in for more, but it’s even more endearing when the boy is finally forced to pull away to catch his breath. Everything about him is so absolutely charming. It’s a shame he doesn’t realise how charming he is.

Taking the time to catch his breath has made Zane painfully aware of how heated his body has become. He can feel himself starting to sweat; and the fact that his shirt is already clinging to his skin doesn’t make it better.

Between his growing desires and rampant thoughts, Zane catches sight of your lips moving. Shit! You’re saying something but Zane can’t make out the words! He nods out of habit and you smile, but then you start climbing over the center console and end up in the backseat. It takes an awkward minute of staring before Zane realises you must be waiting for him.

Kicking himself free of his half-removed pants, Zane climbs into the back of your car and sits across from you. It isn’t until you’re reaching for the light in the car that Zane finally finds his voice again.

“Wait!” His request comes out much louder than he’d intended, but you comply. Zane hardly thinks about his request before it spills from his lips. “Can we keep the lights on? I want to be able to see you.” Gosh, he’d been so caught up in his own mind that he went and spoke without thinking again!

What’s going to happen this time? Are you going to snap? Going to kick him out of your car into the pouring rain? How could he ever think to demand something from you after you’ve given him so much already? You must think Zane the most frustrating and entitled person you ever-

“Actually… I’d really like that.”

The sound of your voice finally cuts through the sound of his own thoughts and grounds him to reality. Away from anything and everything is but Zane and yourself.

Good Irene… you’re absolutely beautiful.

Two roaming hands and a dozen kisses later you find your back arching off the seat of your car as you’re filled by your companion’s lengthy cock. You can’t say you weren’t expecting this but everything still manages to surprise you: the specific amount of force put into each thrust, the carefully curated space left between his lips and yours, hell, even the places he puts his hands are precise. It’s like the boy is afraid of doing something wrong. Little does he know that he’s doing everything just right.

Your companion’s thrusts combined with the gentle arch of your back make for a deliciously satisfying sensation. It isn’t long before you can feel that familiar tension as an orgasm begins to build. Then just as quickly as it starts, your companion’s pace stops.

Your eyes shot open and immediately landed on the boy’s face. You can hardly be mad when he meets your gaze so tenderly and kisses you with so much passion. Then it was off to the races once more.

As the boy begins to move you carefully hook one of your legs against his shoulder. The change seems to grant the boy more leeway with his movements as the force of his thrusts seemingly increases. Once again you find yourself being brought closer to that familiar feeling of release, and once again that feeling is torn away when the boy inexplicably brings his movements to a halt.

You want to ask the boy if everything’s alright, you really do, but the speed in which he leans down and steals your words in a kiss surprises you. For a moment you hear the boy’s voice beneath your own thoughts but by the time you’ve processed what he said they’re all but washed away by the feeling of pleasure.

Every time that pleasantly tight feeling starts to build the boy brings his movements to a screeching halt. It doesn’t matter if your legs are wrapped around his waist or if your hand dips down between your legs, if the boy stops then so does your oh-so-desired orgasm.

You didn’t mind the first time, neither were you bothered by the second, but as each and every orgasm was unwittingly stolen you became restless.

Unlike him you made a show of effort every time his hips met yours. You let your voice echo freely and dragged your nails across his exposed skin. You even went as far as to dip in and out of the boy’s personal space (whatever personal space exists between two people having car sex) just to force him to chase your lips for a kiss.

Despite all the ways you carefully pulled the boy along, it was you who found yourself constantly vying for more. When your climax was just out of reach for the fifth time, you wrapped your arms around the boy’s neck and pulled him flush against your body.

“Please-” you utter in a breathless and desperate way, “please don’t stop. I’m so close.”

“But if I don’t then I might-” Your companion’s words are cut off by a strangled groan but you get the idea pretty quickly.

“Don’t worry, it’s safe.” You assure the boy. “Just- please.” You can feel your companion’s shoulders tighten beneath your grasp but you’re not so eager to let him get away. You pepper kisses against his cheek and neck, whispering sweet nothings in a desperate attempt to encourage him along.

After what felt like far too long you finally got what you were waiting for. You can feel your entire body tensing as pleasure rakes through your very being. The pleasure is almost painful, though at the moment it hardly feels like a bad thing.

Now your companion on the other hand. If his words are anything to go off of then the boy reaches his own climax mere moments after you. If that wasn’t enough then feeling him lean his weight against you was certainly a sign of satisfaction.

Still out of breath and pressed up against you, the boy breaks the silence. “Did you? You know?”

“Cum?” Hidden away from your prying eyes you feel the boy nod against your shoulder ever so slightly. While your first impulse was to tease, you could only bring yourself to answer him honestly. “I did, and it was… intense. In a good way, I mean.”

“You’re not lying, right?”

“Of course not.”

In all honesty, you were surprised he held off for as long as he did. And for him to check in on you first and foremost? I mean, after everything he told you about his night you assumed the last thing he’d want to do is cater to someone like you. Hell, you assumed that someone who held the world in such an antagonistic view would also be equally as narcissistic, but he wasn’t.

When your ears eventually stop ringing and your breathing finally steadies, the sound of the rain returns. It’s a lot softer than before. You might even be inclined to say it was gentle.

Eventually you feel the weight of your companion alleviate. As he pulls away you’re forced to untangle your fingers from his hair (which you didn’t realise were there in the first place). It culminates into an oddly intimate moment with his cheek nuzzled up against the palm of your hand.

You know that this is far more intimate than things like this are supposed to get, but with the boy looking up at you so earnestly it’s something you don’t mind. In fact, you’d even be inclined to say that you like it.

It’s not uncommon for Kings or Queens to establish a royal consort when they become the primary ruler of their kingdom. In fact, it’s often encouraged for the ruler of a kingdom to have multiple consorts as a means to ensure the strength of their next of kin. The previous king was no exception to this. Thus, you are one born among several others who are eligible to inherit the throne. Whether or not you would, though, is a different question.

Dante stood in the courtyard waiting for you to arrive. It was only a matter of time before you were finished with your studies, yet the boy still felt that you were taking far too long. He knew he should’ve gone with his gut - knew he should've bore the embarrassment of looking like a decoration in order to ensure your safety. Now he stood waiting alone in the dark like an abandoned dog as you presumably made your way towards him.

Dante is your personal guard, that much is obvious, but he’s also your friend. He doesn’t always like that you call him your friend for he knows it’s not his place to be considered as such, but neither can the boy bring himself to deny you. The pain of seeing you frown far outweighs the guilt of allowing himself to be called your friend. That’s not to say Dante dislikes the notion of being someone dear to you, only that he knows better than to let his feelings get ahead of himself.

That being said, Dante would be remiss if he denied how much he loves you. 

It’s not uncommon for guards to love the person they’ve sworn to protect, the line between admiration and adoration is nearly invisible, and Dante knows better than most that guards aren’t supposed to love their ward the way that he loves you.

His love for you isn’t a choice. It’s a desire. A need. A way of life he’s adapted to because he has no choice but to do so. Dante’s love for you has brought him spiraling into a constant state of conflict over your safety, but it’s also given him a strength and dedication unlike any he’s felt before. It came to a point where Dante was unsure of whether he should keep his feelings toward you a secret. Not because he wanted you to return his feelings but because he knew his personal biases would affect his work. 

All of this came to a head when, a few weeks ago, you confessed your feelings for the boy. Regardless of his feelings Dante’s resolve to stay by your side would never falter, but to say he wanted you to love him was a different story.

Dante has never wanted his love for you to be unrequited, but neither did he desire your love for him to become a burden. You are, after all, a princess. If you were to worry about his wellbeing as much as he worried about you then his role as your guard would be all for naught! Pursuing romance with you was out of the question - at least, that’s what Dante has been telling himself every time his heart began to race at the mere thought of you.

Does this mean he's a bad guard? No, definitely not, right? After all, he graduated at the top of his class! He was privileged enough to have a position among the Royal Guards the day after he graduated. Most of all, he was assigned to be the young princess’s one and only personal guard - your guard! If that didn’t mean he was competent in the duties of a knight then he wasn’t sure what was.

There’s a sharp pricking at the back of Dante’s mind and he suddenly spins around. It’s only when he’s staring down at your curious gaze that he realises you’ve arrived. Your eyes flit down and Dante follows your gaze. The boy can feel his fingers twitching against the hilt of his blade, his face going flush at being caught so horribly off guard.

“M-my Lady.” The blue haired boy stammers as he adjusts himself. “It’s gotten quite late.”

You nod your head with a quiet hum. “Indeed, it has.” You adjust the way you hold yourself, your arms crossed in front of you as if you were holding something against your chest. Before he can even think about what he wants to say, words begin to fall from the boy’s mouth.

“Are you cold?”

“Am I cold?” You repeat in amusement. “What makes you think I might be cold?”

Dante gestures toward your arms and shrugs. The action pulls a short bout of laughter from your lips and prompts your guard to take a better look at you. It’s at this moment that Dante finally takes notice of the book you hold tightly against your chest.

“It seems to me that my knight is rather distracted.” You gently nudge Dante with your shoulder and move past him, leaving the boy to follow after you with hurried strides.

“Me? Distracted? No way. A knight such as myself would never let himself get distracted.”

“A knight like yourself, huh? Would you be so kind as to elaborate on that?”

“I’d be more than happy to oblige to My Lady’s requests…” Dante trails away from his sentence. He’s unsure whether your inquiry is one of genuine interest or just a jest of some sort. He briefly glances over at you but immediately regrets doing so. His eyes snap forward a little too quickly and the boy can feel his heart beginning to flutter. “...another time.”

“Another time?”

Unable to form any meaningful words, Dante nods. “Another time.”

“Oh… alright then.” You huff to yourself in a way Dante is far too familiar with. He’s certain you’re about to start spouting some nonsense about ‘obeying the requests of his princess’ and whatnot, but you don’t. Tonight you’re uncharacteristically kept.

Dante isn’t well versed in the duties of a princess, nor is he familiar with the kind of pressures one might feel when they represent the entirety of their kingdom in academics, but Dante knows you. He knows that you get stuck in loops - that when you’re belittled you hold your tongue with a pleasantly practiced smile. All that for what? A snide remark and dirty glances? You needn’t make yourself seem like a fool to please the other nobles. You’ve worked hard to live up to your title as royalty so why demean yourself in such a way?

Despite how perfectly you’ve learned to mask your true feelings, Dante knows you. He’s always known you more than you allowed him to see. It’s part of the reason why the boy has so desperately and helplessly fallen in love with you.

You’re not just a princess from some monarchy he’s sworn to, you’re… Dante is your friend. He has heard your tears behind closed doors and seen the calluses that lined your hands. All of that in the name of perfection. When he thinks about that, Dante can’t help but feel enraged. Why the world might dare to treat you so poorly when all you’ve ever done is for your kingdom, then this kingdom be damned!

Ah… but that was Dante getting ahead of himself. After all, he knows his place and you know yours. You are a princess and he is your guard. No amount of feelings can change that.

When you and Dante finally arrive at your designated place of residence it’s nearly midnight. He waits until you gesture for him to follow before stepping in after you. Dante watches from against the wall as you get settled in for the night. He particularly watches how you carefully treat the book you’d been carrying since you met him this evening.

“By the way, My Lady, why do you guard that book so carefully?” Dante finally asks, breaking the delicate silence that had been trailing you all night.

“It’s of great importance.” You reply simply.

“How so?”

Your pace slows as your eyes drift over to the discarded book. “It’s not befitting of a princess to disclose such a thing to her guard.”

“Then what about as my friend?” Dante quips back. He watches your gaze drift over to him as he peels himself off the wall. Though you don’t say anything that opposes his actions, he can’t help but find the way you hold your breath endearing.

“It’s not…” You softly bite down on the inside of your cheek as you search for the right words to say. “I don’t believe it’s something a mere friend should be disclosing either.”

By now Dante has crossed the room and allowed his hand to hover over the cover of the book. He lifts his gaze in search of your own, silently seeking permission, before allowing himself to pick up the book and flip through its pages. Not that he gets very far.

“T-this is… a woman’s guide to love and p-pleasure?” Despite how it likely emphasizes his growing embarrassment Dante cannot bring himself to meet your gaze. Not after reading past the title of the book, and certainly not after you allowed him to get this far! He wonders what kind of expression you might be making right now. He wonders what kind of expression he might be making right now.

“It’s as I said.” Your voice rings clear in Dante’s ears. “I needn’t disclose such a subject to my guard, let alone my friend. Especially not one whom I’ve so desperately fallen in love with.”

Dante puts the book down and finally builds up the courage to look up at you once more. Your body is turned away and your face is deeply flushed but you don’t shy away from meeting his gaze. In fact, the boy is tempted to say that it’s him who begins to shy away.

“I realise I must be repeating myself but I’ve loved you for a while. From before you were ever my guard and before you ever called me your friend, I loved you. Back when we were nothing but children, when we didn’t even know right from wrong, you protected me from the world. And then, right there and then, I fell in love with you. I am in love with you, Dante.”

Every word you uttered brought Dante closer to you. He continued forward until he stood right in front of you - gazing down into your eyes like it was the first time he’d ever seen the sun.

The first time you’d confessed your feelings had sent Dante into a spiral of confusion and conflict. It’s almost shameful how slackjawed Dante had become in your presence, but could anyone really blame him when the love of their life confessed before their very eyes? Back then he’d only managed a short ‘but I’m your guard’ in response, but now? Well, things have since changed after having time to sit with his feelings.

Dante could hardly think and could hardly even breathe, but with what little sense he had left he could manage one response.

“I’m in love with you, too.”

There. He said it. He finally told you the truth and he’s never felt better about it.

Dante has overwhelmingly, desperately and helplessly fallen in love with you - and you have fallen in love with him too.

The boy slowly wraps one arm around your waist and brings the other to the underside of your chin. In a slow but deliberate motion, Dante closes the distance that’s always existed. Your titles of knight and princess no longer meant anything. Not when your hands were on him, and certainly not while his lips were on yours.

At first his kisses were stiff and frantic as Dante searched for the right way to kiss you, but you slowly and surely returned his kisses with a gentleness of your own. The way your lips moved against his own was unlike anything he’s ever experienced before.

It was perfect - you are perfect.

With nimble hands and quick fingers, Dante begins to shed the small amount of armour he wears as your guard. Before either of you really know it you’ve both crossed the room and landed on your bed. It’s small and generally made for one, but it’s more than enough space when the two of you are like this.

“You mean it, right?" Your voice carries up from your lips ever so softly.

Dante looks down at your body beneath his. You stare up at him as you drink in all of his features. The feeling of your eyes traveling across his face makes Dante’s stomach flutter but he can’t bring himself to look away. It’s just- you’re so beautiful.

The soft curve of your smile, that delicate look in your eyes, even the way your hands trail across the fabric of his shirt; Dante loves everything about you.

“I do.” He confirms. “I love you.”

“Swear to me that you haven’t told a lie.”

“The only lies I’ve ever uttered are the ones that denied my love for you.” Confesses the boy. “You told me you’ve loved me from the day I protected you, yet my love for you started far before then. Now the words ‘I love you’ aren’t nearly enough to express how deeply I’ve fallen for you. I just- I couldn’t bear the thought of you loving someone like me.”

“Oh my sweet guard, there’s no one I’d rather love than you.”

Your hands pull at Dante’s shirt and the boy immediately complies with your request. He lowers himself as you wrap your arms around his neck. Even before he knows you’re going to kiss him, Dante’s eyes flutter closed as you pull him closer to yourself. 

No longer blindsided by the feeling of your touch, Dante leans into the kiss and presses his body against yours. How he wishes he could stay in this moment forever. He will never let himself forget the taste of your lips, nor will he forget the feeling of your fingers against his back. Even when he thinks you’ve had enough of him, you always go back for one more kiss.

Finally building up the courage to do more than just react, Dante slips one of his hands beneath the fabric of your loose undergown and caresses your waist. He can’t bring himself to trail his touches further but good Irene, he desperately wants to.

Out of breath and nearly at his wits end, Dante breaks away from your kisses.

“You want this too, right?” Dante suddenly asks, his eyes bearing into your own as he awaits your reply. “Tell me it’s not just me. Tell me you want me too. Please.”

“I do.”

“You do?” The boy can feel a flurry of emotions building in his chest but he continues to push them down. “You’re sure about this, right?” With the way he leans his head on your shoulder Dante is practically begging to be yours. “We can stop here if you’d prefer. We don’t have to… you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. We can-”

“Dante, listen to me.” You speak so softly against Dante’s ear yet your voice rings clear in his mind. “If loving you is the only choice I’ll ever get to make for myself then it’s one that I’ll never regret. No matter what reason you may think up in that head of yours, know that this is something I want. Don’t you know that I am already yours?”

And there it was. His breaking point.

Not another word needed to be said to convince Dante any further. With his mind filled with nothing but his thoughts of you, Dante trails his hand all the way up your torso until he reaches your chest. The boy caresses you delicately and kisses the skin of your neck. Even when he knows how deeply he loves you Dante still makes a point to savour every single moment with you.

He revels in the sound of your voice. He delights in the taste of kisses and shudders at the feeling of your fingers as they comb through his hair. This is everything he’s ever wanted and more, all with the person he loves more than the world itself.

As his feelings of desire grow, Dante slowly peels himself away from you. He’s hesitant to discard what little of his clothes remain but staying in them any longer would surely drive him insane. Whether it was because you sensed his hesitance or because your desires were outgrowing your patience, you sat up and slid your hands beneath the boy’s shirt.

“May I?” Your eyes peer up at the boy so earnestly - so cautiously. How could Dante ever bring himself to deny you like this?

Dante pulls his shirt off in one swift motion and discards the garment at the foot of your bed. Any uncertainty the boy might’ve felt about his body melt away when he catches sight of your undergown being thrown in a similar direction.

The sight of your near-naked body puts Dante in a trance. Actions he would’ve thought about twice became like second-nature.

The boy trails his hands up your thighs and gently tugs the fabric of your underwear down your legs. The boy is just as quick to remove his own clothes and reveal himself to you in full. It feels different, almost a little embarrassing to be seen like this, but when it’s in front of you Dante doesn’t mind. In fact, he might even say he likes it.

Your gaze caresses every single part of Dante’s exposed body as he leans over you. “What are you waiting for?” There’s a slight edge to your voice that Dante’s never heard before, but it’s one that he finds absolutely captivating.

“Apologies, my lady.” Dante apologises. “It’s just that… well, this is my-”

“First time?” Your hand grasps Dante’s chin as you coax his distracted gaze back to your face. “It’s a first for me as well. You needn’t rush, my love.”

“My love.” Dante repeats those words like some sort of hex. “As surely as you love me, you equally drive me mad with desire.”

“You speak as if you are the only one here who is being driven mad with desire.” It’s then that Dante finally notices the flushed expression on your face. It’s such a stark contrast to the practiced smile he’s seen you wear so many times before yet it fits you perfectly well. This smile, this soft look that’s undoubtedly reserved for him alone, is beautiful.

You’re beautiful.

Without another word Dante brings his length to the lips of your core. Without a moment of hesitation, Dante slowly guides himself into your eagerly awaiting pussy.

It takes a few shallow thrusts before the boy can fully bury the length of his cock inside of you. And when he finally does? Well, it’s as if the entire world outside of you has ceased to exist. Every fiber of the boy, his heart, body and mind, was focused on you.

Without a doubt in his mind Dante knows that he is yours, and he knows that you are his.

Pulling back his hips ever so slightly, Dante gives a few experimental thrusts. He pulls himself close as he gauges your reactions to the best of his abilities. When he’s finally found a certain thrust that pulls the most beautiful sounds from your lips, he begins to set a rhythm.

Over and over again Dante listens to the beautiful pants and moans that slip past your lips. I mean, can he really be blamed? The sound of your voice has always been like music to his ears. It’s hardly a surprise that now is no different.

Dante uses his hands to caress every inch of skin he can reach, and even then he wants more. His lips seek refuge with yours and he begins to steal kisses between each of your scattered moans. If the boy thought he was greedy before then he wasn’t sure how to describe himself now as he drowns himself in everything that you are. From the taste of your lips to the feeling of your body against his and the sound of your voice, Dante was certain that he would never forget this feeling of you. He will never allow himself to forget this feeling of love.

It isn’t long before Dante is teetering on the edge of his own ecstasy. The pleasure from his thrusts slowly turn into torture as he tries to hold onto this fleeting moment. When all is said and done things will undoubtedly return to how they once were. After all, he is your guard and you are a princess. Even when his feelings have changed, his duties to you have not.

You, on the other hand, hold onto Dante in a way that spells forever. With your eyes shut tight in ecstasy and your body that aches with pleasure, you know that he is yours and that you will always be his.

“M-my lady, I-” Dante utters but you quickly cut him off.

“Your love. Call me your love.” You insist.

“My love…” the words sound foreign as they spill from his lips but that’s far from saying they feel wrong. If anything, nothing has ever sounded more right. “My love, I can’t hold back. You feel so good-! I…”

In a wordless act of comfort you press a kiss against his lips. Not one that reeks of desperation, but one of love and certainty. It’s… soft.

Gentle, even.

And just like that Dante finally comes undone in your arms. The feeling of pleasure is none like he’s ever known, and getting to feel like that with you has the boy over the moon.

“I love you. I love you so much.” Utters Dante. “Will you promise to always be mine?” He knows he shouldn’t have asked but he couldn’t stop the words from slipping past his lips.

“That is not a thing we get to decide.” You muse, pulling the boy forward until his forehead rests against yours.

Dante nuzzles his face against yours oh so affectionately. “I know, but… won’t you at least humor me, my love?” His voice trails out in a quietly desperate plea. “Now that I know how it feels to love you I cannot bear the idea of ever stopping. Not even when I know how the future will go.”

“Oh my sweet guard, you needn’t think so hard about the future at this very moment. Don’t think about the duties you have as my knight, and don’t think of my duties as the princess of this kingdom.” You hum in reply. “For just this moment, be right here with me. Not with me as your liege and not with me as your friend, but as your love. Can you do that for me?”

And Dante, despite anything and everything that might’ve told him to say otherwise, could only find it in himself to relent. Not because you were a princess or because he was your knight, but because he loved you. He loved you, and you loved him.

Vylad brushes back your hair and trails kisses down the side of your face. When he pulls away he immediately follows your gaze down to where your bodies connect. To feel your walls around him is one thing, but watching his cock disappear inside you makes the pleasure nearly unbearable. “I really want you to cum for me. Can you tell me how I can make you cum?”

Hearing the words out loud makes Vylad feel self conscious. He’s always been a giver but this is probably pushing it, right? I mean, this is a one night stand. Vylad is sleeping with someone knowing that the probability of this situation repeating itself is practically zero! Wouldn’t it be in his best interest to take all he can get?

He looks down at your body beneath his, his cock twitching inside of you as he thrusts his hips to meet yours, and can’t bring himself to be greedy. Not when it’s you.

Good Irene, you’re beautiful. It’s not like you weren’t beautiful when you arrived at the company dinner party, and it’s not like Vylad would deny it if someone caught him staring, but you’re so undeniably beautiful. While being beautiful is nothing to be ashamed of, Vylad knows that girls like you don’t usually go for guys like him. Especially not for things like lust and pleasure.

And yet Vylad finds himself on his bed with your body beneath his. The boy knows he would be so lucky to find out that you’re in it for more than just sex, but he’d rather not get his hopes up. Not when it comes to a girl as amazing as you are.

From the sound of your voice to your gentle touches, Vylad knows just how amazing you are - and that’s something he didn’t need to find out through sex. He’s always known it. It’s why he said yes to a one night stand in the first place. Not because he was ‘in the mood’ or anything like that, but because he wanted to give you everything you deserved.

He wants to fulfill your cravings. To satisfy your hunger to the best of his abilities - abilities which, to be frank, are not the most notable parts about himself. Still, he’ll try.

Vylad shifts the way your legs rest against his shoulder before pushing himself deep into your cunt. The combination of actions pull more sounds of pleasure from you, your voice rolling off the walls like a symphony of sorts. He likes that. He likes the sound of your voice when you’re giving in to pleasure.

Vylad can feel your back arching against the mattress as he pulls himself closer to your chest. He heeds the call of your body and stops for a moment - just long enough to grab one of his pillows and slide it beneath the small of your back. Once you seem comfortable again, he resumes.

The change in angle brings more pleasure to Vylad and quickly brings him teetering on the edge of his climax. For a moment he thinks about stopping and changing positions, but the way you grip his forearm is very telling of how close you are to reaching your climax as well.

Leaning down, Vylad lets his lips hover just above the shell of your ear. “You feel so good.” He purposely allows his lips to brush against your skin. “You’re going to make me cum. Can I cum for you? Please?”

“Hold on.” Your mouth hangs open as your words get muddled between quiet pants and moans. You can’t help the way your body reacts to Vylad. It takes a certain amount of self-control to keep yourself from completely giving in to him, and even then you find yourself taking more than you intend to. “I’m close. I’m so- so close.”

You can feel the boy’s grip on your body growing tighter as he continues moving. He’s extremely careful not to break the pace he set. It’s practically to the point where denying the boy of his climax feels cruel.

Aside from simply admitting to his inexperience with one night stands, the way he went about your pleasure was a clear sign of the boy’s true feelings for this kind of thing. You’re not even sure what could’ve possessed him to offer up his body to you in the first place. You know you’re not witty enough to charm people as giving as your current companion yet here you are beneath him.

You’d hate to leave your companion with the impression that he was unable to satisfy your desires, but forcing him to keep going wasn’t appealing either. Should you just pretend? It’s cruel to do so, but forcing him to go on seems worse somehow.

“I… I’m gonna cum-” Vylad’s voice is strained as his body jerks against yours. He tries not to lean too closely but he can’t help himself. “Is it okay if I cum inside?”

To the boy’s relief you pull him closer. The combination of hums and moans that fall from your lips make Vylad feel warm inside. It makes the boy feel even more strongly about making you cum - making him desperate to please you.

Vylad is oh-so eager to please you.

With his hands desperately gripping your hips, Vylad keeps a steady pace until he can do it no longer. Holding back for so long is akin to torture but feeling the warmth of your body is well worth it - seeing the extasy on your face is more than worth it.

When he finally allows himself to cum, it feels like all of the strength in his body is being sapped away. He hardly puts any thought into what he’s doing until he realises his hands have cupped your cheeks and pulled you into a kiss.

The taste of your lips are sweet with a subtle hint of bitter. The feeling of your lips moving against his makes it feel like his head is spinning - though there’s always a chance that he only feels that way because he just reached his climax. Either way, Vyald knows he could get used to you and your kisses. He could get used to everything about you, but he ultimately forces himself to pull away.

“Sorry.” Vylad apologizes as he swiftly removes himself from on top of you. He hardly needs to spare a glance to catch the expression on your face. You stare at the boy in a mix of confusion and guilt. Vyald knows full well that it’s a look that reflects his own.

The bed creaks as you crawl over to where Vylad sits but you never close the distance. The boy is pretty sure that you’d look away if he were to turn and face you, so he doesn’t.

As the boy refuses to meet your gaze, you’re inclined to reach out and turn the boy’s face toward your own. Still, something holds you back. It’s not necessarily something he did that causes you to falter, but your own selfish desires. You’re certain that you’d end up taking more than the two of you agreed on if you reached for him now.

This is just a one-time thing. One moment. One night.

Taking things this far probably wasn’t fair for the boy anyway. From the few interactions you had with him, it was clear he wasn’t the ‘no strings attached’ kind of guy. There’s nothing wrong with that of course, but bringing him to this point felt like you were bleeding him dry of his affections.

A boy like him shouldn’t be sharing his emotions in such a frivolous way. It’s just- it’s exactly the kind of thing that you knew to avoid.

Vylad listens as your weight shifts across the surface of his bed. He waits for the sound of your feet hitting the ground but he’s met with the sound of you flopping back onto his bed. Against his better judgement his eyes snap over to you.

“Are you okay?” The words slip out a little faster than he wants them to but he’s sure you don’t mind. The way you meet his gaze with a smile is very telling.

“Yeah. Just trying to unwind after all the excitement.” Your eyes flit over to the boy for just a moment before they’re back to the ceiling with a deep but quiet sigh. Vylad thinks he might’ve seen you pull the corner of your lip between your teeth but it’s hard to tell.

He thinks about shifting closer to you but the boy doesn’t want to bombard you with affection you aren’t keen on receiving. All things considered, you’re pretty relaxed. With one hand beneath your head and the other gently caressing your waist, it’s obvious that you’re not really in the moment. At least, not anymore.

Try as he might, Vylad’s eyes wander along your figure. From the soft arch of your back against the bed to the way your hair lays sprawled against his pillow, Vylad takes his time adoring every single second of you. Every single moment of you he can get! You are absolutely stunning. It’s the kind of beauty someone can adore for a lifetime.

Ah- but he can’t get ahead of himself. The two of you didn’t agree to forever - only a moment. This is a one time thing. Just one night.

But as the boy continues to admire the sight of you in his bed, he cannot deny his growing desire for more. The sound of your voice, the taste of your lips - all of you. And as Vylad catches you peering over at him from the corner of your eyes, he can’t help but think you feel the same way as him.

Vyald smiles at you and watches your expression shift ever so slightly. He knows he’s right. He only wonders why you might’ve lied. No, that’s not quite right. Vylad knows why you would lie. He’s not a fool and neither are you. The real reason he stares is because he’s unsure of himself.

Despite using every trick he could think of, Vylad didn’t make you cum. Sure, you might not have told him that you’re unsatisfied but your body language speaks volumes.

Feeling like his heart might burst from his chest, Vyald shifts himself across his bed until he sits beside you. Your eyes follow him the entire way over until you’re forced to turn your body. The action almost feels… intimate.

“Something on your mind?” Your voice beckons Vylad in a sweet and playful way. “Or maybe you just want to go for round two.”

“Not quite round two, but perhaps something closer to round 1.5?” Despite the distance between the two of you, Vylad can feel a spark of desire in the pit of his stomach. There’s no doubt in his mind that his desires come from seeing that expression of yours. Curiosity and a hunger for more.

Before you have a chance to question him further, the boy beckons you closer. Your curiosity pushes you to heed his call. Within just a few moments you find yourself straddling the boy’s face. You’d usually hesitate to indulge such a request but the hunger in your companion’s eyes fills you with an unusual compliance. The boy gets to work as soon as you set yourself down against his face.

Your companion starts off slow as he gently trances the outside of your pussy with his tongue. You can feel his eyes staring up at you intently and you’re hesitant to meet his gaze. You’re not put off by his observations, not by any means, but you can’t deny how different this is.

The feeling of his tongue exploring your sensitive region is one thing, but it’s the little things the boy does that really get you.

As your companion continues to search for the spot that earns him a satisfying reaction, his hands gently squeeze and pull at your thighs. Sometimes he’ll pull your hips flush against his face, and other times he’ll pinch and caress the sensitive areas around your hips and thighs. You aren’t sure what to make of his wandering hands, it’s honestly a little distracting, but that’s when the boy suddenly wraps one of his hands around your thigh and holds you firmly in place.

Before you have a chance to inquire about the sudden shift, the boy begins to use his tongue against your clit. The sudden stimulation causes you to jerk against the boy’s grip on you, but things really start to ramp up when your companion uses his hand to gently lift the hood of your clit.

With full access to the small bundle of nerves, you suddenly find yourself completely at the mercy of the boy’s actions. You didn’t expect that the boy would bring you teetering on the edge of your release so quickly, but here you are.

The boy’s firm but persistent pace makes you unaware of your own movements as you start to grind against his face. As the familiar feeling of pleasure builds in the pit of your stomach you unconsciously try to pull away from him. You don’t want this night, this moment, to be over yet. You still want more from him. You still-

“I’m cumming-!” The words fall so pitifully from your lips. With your hands grasping and tugging on the boy beneath you, you desperately try to hold on to the blissful feeling of release as you ride out your orgasm. By the time you come to, you can’t help but feel a bit embarrassed.

Despite having thoroughly enjoyed yourself, something inside you still craves more. The feeling only intensifies when you look down at the boy who stares up at you with nothing but adoration.

Gosh, this boy will be the death of you.

“Sorry, I must be heavy-” You start while gently lifting yourself off of the boy. He allows you to make yourself comfortable at his side without protest - almost as if he hasn’t heard a single thing you’ve said. You’re about to point this out when the boy suddenly interrupts you.

“You’re so beautiful. Would it be too much if I asked for more?”

Maybe it’s the way he stares, or maybe it’s the way he so earnestly wears his heart on his sleeve, but you can’t help but pull yourself against the boy.

Just like before, the boy’s kisses are slow and affectionate. His hands are so delicate against your body and he allows himself to fall to your rhythm completely. Everything about this boy is so gentle and warm… it makes you want him to no end.

Travis blinks at you confused. He’s unsure if he heard you correctly but the look on your face tells him everything he needs to know.

To be honest, Travis knew that something like this was bound to happen. He didn’t think it would happen on one of your late night walks together, but he supposes this is better than a lot of other things he could imagine.

The boy can’t say he knew this was what your late night walk would amount to, let alone that this is how things would end, but he’s always known that you were bound for great things - greater things than what he could ever offer you. He’s just amazed that you gave him a chance in the first place. A chance that turned into four of the best years of his life.

Not a lot of people are bold enough to distribute compliments to complete strangers, and even fewer are able to convey their sincerity in the fraction of a moment. You, however, were different. At least, you were different from a lot of people he’d met before.

“You’re beautiful.”

They were the first words you said when you pulled Travis aside. He was just a freshman in college wandering around campus in the hope that he would stumble across a nice place to study. The last thing he expected was to be pulled inside of an art room, yet an art room is where he found himself that day.

Travis will never forget the way you looked at him with such earnest eyes. The way you held onto his hand so innocently, or how you stared at him with such a devastatingly honest expression.

While the compliment was enough to leave a strong impression, Travis never thought he’d be on the receiving end of such a compliment. In fact, he never thought he’d be approached by an art major with the opportunity to be a live model.

Being a freshman didn’t mean Travis was broke, he was lucky enough to be the son of a rather well-off family, and he wasn’t particularly interested in standing in front of a bunch of people with a scandalous amount of clothes. There were many other reasons among those which pushed Travis away from the idea, but he couldn’t bring himself to say no to you.

It was a surprise to the boy when the answer he gave was a yes, but it was an even bigger surprise when he showed up and realised he wasn’t modeling in the studio. He was a personal model for you.

For you.

He didn’t need to get naked (thank Irene) but he did have to sit still for three hours straight. Though he usually would’ve found such a thing miserable to sit through, Travis found himself completely enamoured by the process. It wasn’t the sitting that had him entranced, mind you, but the opportunity to watch you work.

He loved watching the subtle shifts in your expression as you worked. You’d go from being focused to being amused, then suddenly flare up in frustration or surprise. It didn’t seem like you realised you were doing it either. It was all just part of your process. It was beautiful, and yet you were the one who called him beautiful.

Thinking about it now, the fact that you would call Travis beautiful is what really took him aback. How could he hope to compare himself to your passion? How could he dare to compare his own confidence or commitment to the likes of your own? He couldn’t, and he didn’t.

You were, no, you are beautiful.

You are the definition of what Travis deems beautiful.

There was no way Travis would let someone like you slip through his fingers. He wasn’t sure if he wanted you as a friend or something more, but he knew he wanted to get to know you. What better way to do that than to ask you out on a date?

And so one art project turned into a date, and one date turned into a dozen. It wasn’t a sudden or unbelievable progression, but one that seemed to fall into place between the two of you. It wasn’t long until Travis had the honour of calling himself your boyfriend.

Until today, it would seem.

A bachelors in most subjects takes about four years to complete. Many would argue that four years is a short amount of time in the grand scheme of things, but not to Travis.

Travis spent four years as your boyfriend. Everyday he spent with you was like a dream. It was everything he could’ve asked for and more. You listened to him ramble about nonsensical things, and Travis would watch you tentatively while you sketched and painted and sculpted your works.

You both laughed at the same jokes and enjoyed playing the same games. You both liked night time walks and staying up late. Hell, the two of you liked each other!

No… that’s not quite right.

Travis loves you. He really and truly loves you! From the quiet nights you stayed awake on call to the radical afternoons spent in each others’ arms, Travis knows how much he loves you… but Travis knows better than anyone else that his love for you was dragging you down.

You are an artist - a brilliant one at that! Though you hide your face behind the screen, your heart has always been on display for all to see. The art you make deserves to be adored by the whole world! It’s just- Travis knows that he won’t be there at your side.

At one point, no, the entire time he’s been your boyfriend, Travis has always known his place. Even though he was by your side, he’d only ever been in your audience - only ever someone who adored watching you soar. He knew that you would come to the same conclusion as him one day, but that didn’t mean he was ready for it.

Even when you were staring him in the face as the bearer of bad news, Travis put on a smile. It’s not like he can act unphased, but smiling helped numb the pain. It gave him just enough confidence to reach forward and take your hand in his.

“It’s okay. I understand.” Travis assures you, hoping that you couldn’t hear the strain in his voice as he pushed down his tears. “We had a good run, but we were never meant for forever.”

The boy watches your expression contort involuntarily as you meet his gaze. “I’m sorry.” Just like always, an apology without emotion. It's not so bad once you get used to it.

“So am I.” Travis echoes. “I’m sorry too.”

You shake your head and tighten your fingers around the boy’s hand. “You shouldn’t be.”

“Then neither should you.”

Your brows furrow for a moment and allow Travis to glimpse your true feelings. It isn’t long before you give a quiet, defeated sigh. “It’s time for me to go.”

Travis nods, “I know” and allows you to lead him back down the path to your car.

Despite the many times he’s walked it, the path seems longer tonight. Or maybe it’s the fact that he’s taking it so slow. I mean, could you blame him?

Both you and Travis know that the moment you step into your car, things will be different. They’re already different now! But he’d rather not think about such a thing. Not yet. Not when he still has you in his grasp.

For a moment Travis wonders what he was to you. He’s not actually sure he wants to know the answer to that question. In fact, he doesn’t want to know it at all.

If only Travis had met you under different circumstances. If only he’d been born in a different city. Hell, maybe he’d been born in a different world entirely! Maybe then he’d be able to see himself as something more than a means to an end.

Even if soulmates were a thing of this world, Travis knows he isn’t yours. No matter how much it hurts, or how badly he wishes things were different, he can’t make such a thing come true.

As you walk up to the door and hover your free hand by the door of your car, you pause.

Even though his house is easily within walking distance, it’s so normal for you to offer him a ride home. He knows you’re hesitating and he knows why you haven’t asked him yet. He wouldn’t have asked himself either.

“Goodbye.” The words scrape the back of his throat as they pry past his lips. That pain only shifts to his chest when your fingers unfurl from his, and when he pulls his hand from yours.

You get into your car and close the door. It feels like forever passes in the time between watching you get into the driver’s seat and feeling the glow of your headlights against his face. He doesn’t mind though. He never has. If a moment like this felt like forever, then the time he spent with you was undoubtedly an eternity.

Even though the two of you are no longer together, Travis takes solace in knowing how much he loved you - that he will continue to love you for the rest of his life.