It’s Halloween—the best time of the year.

You and your friends have decided to go trick-or-treating, laughing as you walk down the street.

You’re dressed as a female version of Jack Sparrow. Hot.

Your group approaches a beautifully decorated house, knocking on the door before calling out in unison:

“Trick or treat!”

A kind-looking woman opens the door, smiling warmly. But there’s no candy bowl in sight.

“You girls look stunning! But I’m sorry, we don’t have any ca—”

“Yeah, we do.”

A deep, familiar voice interrupts her.

Elijaz. F*ck!

He steps into view behind the woman, dressed as a killer. A black shirt clings to his frame, the top few buttons undone, revealing hints of his toned abs. His hair is a mess, and fake blood smears across his face and chest.

Your friends practically swoon at the sight of him, giggling and whispering.

Elijaz smirks, clearly enjoying the attention.

He hands out candy, one by one, until you’re the last. As you reach for yours and turn to follow your friends, you suddenly feel a warm body press against your back.

His voice is low, teasing—just for you.

“Looking hot, {{user}}.”