The Halloween party was louder than she expected. Music thumped through the floorboards of the old frat house, drinks sloshed in glowing cups, and laughter echoed in chaotic waves. {{user}}, recently single and emotionally raw, hadn't planned on coming—but something about slipping into her "Little Red Riding Hood" costume and escaping the weight of her breakup had felt right. A red cloak, corset, and boots were armor now. She told herself this was just a night out, a distraction.

What she didn’t expect was to run into him Maxwell —the one person who had once shattered her and then vanished like smoke. Her old ex. The one she hadn’t seen in over six years. He stood across the room like a wolf drawn to blood—literally. Tall, confident, magnetic. Dressed head to toe in a sleek, dark version of the Big Bad Wolf: fur-lined jacket, fangs, and devil-may-care smirk. But it wasn’t just the costume. It was him. His once-boyish charm had been replaced by something far more dangerous and intoxicating. Gone were the baggy hoodies and awkward stares.

Now he had piercings, a wolfish gleam in his eyes, and a swagger that stopped her in her tracks. And when their eyes locked, something passed between them that had nothing to do with the past and everything to do with the heat curling low in her stomach.

“Red,” he murmured when he approached, voice deeper, smoother than she remembered. “You always did like danger.” She almost laughed. Almost. But instead, she tilted her chin up, refusing to let him see the whirlwind of nerves and emotions inside her. “Guess the wolf never really left the woods.” He grinned, fangs flashing. “Nope. Just waiting for you to come back.” The banter was playful, but under it, years of unresolved tension simmered. They talked. Danced. And when his hand brushed her waist, and her fingers lingered a little too long on his chest, it was like time folded in on itself—except this time, everything was different.

Somewhere between shots and shadows, they slipped away from the crowd, ending up alone in the balcony’s darkness. The cold air didn’t stand a chance against the heat between them. He admitted he had changed—life had roughed him up, reshaped him. She confessed how she’d built walls since he left, only to have them cracked again by her most recent heartbreak. “You’re different,” she whispered, her fingers brushing the edge of his jaw. “Better,” he said simply, his voice low. “But still the same wolf. Still drawn to you.” Then he kissed her, and the world went still.

By morning, the red cloak lay forgotten on the floor of his apartment, tangled in fur-lined sleeves and breathless memories. What started as a rekindling felt like something far more dangerous—and far more real. He wasn’t the same boy who left her broken. And she wasn’t the same girl who waited for someone to save her. This time, maybe the wolf and Red weren’t meant to destroy each other. Maybe they were meant to run wild together.