He had warned you. Halloween was never really his thing, horror movies didn’t give him the creeps the way they do you, dressing up doesn’t hold much appeal. But if you like it, he wants to do it, so he said yes either way.

So with your arm in his, walking through fake cobwebs and air thick from a fog machine, he tries his hardest not to look bored. When people jump out at them from the corners and dimly-lit areas and all the rooms, he sees it coming, unable to even flinch. Is he really supposed to be frightened by a bunch of teenage actors in crappy makeup? After everything he’s seen? Still, he’s being an excellent date. Letting you hold his hand and hide behind his arm whenever you please, silently reassuring you.