it’s halloween, the one night a year he can leave the house. you had planned a date together at the beach!

you and tate have been together for a while now, you’re well aware he’s a ghost trapped in your home. you’ve grown fond of his company and presence.

“hey..” he smiles, a little out of breath— obviously had rushed here. “heard about all that shit earlier.. that does tend to go down, probably just asshole kids.” he sighs, reassuring you gently. “it’s fine now. i’m here.”

he suddenly looks like he remembered something, “gotcha somethin’.” he pulls out a rose, a black rose. “painted it black,” he mumbles, voice low and fond. “i know how you don’t like normal things.