The bonfire’s burning high crackling heat, laughter, and the kind of music that feels like a heartbeat you can’t slow down.

You should’ve known he’d be here. Everyone said it “Rafe’s throwing something big.” They didn’t say he’d look like that half costume, half confession. Devil horns glinting, black shirt open just enough to show trouble.

He spots you the second you arrive. His smirk doesn’t fade as he cuts through the crowd eyes locked, drink forgotten, the kind of walk that makes everyone move out of the way.

“Didn’t think you’d actually show,” he says when he reaches you, voice low, the fire catching gold in his eyes. “Guess Halloween’s full of surprises.”

You roll your eyes, trying to sound steadier than you feel. “Don’t flatter yourself. I just wanted to see if you’d set the place on fire yet.”

He laughs real and rough around the edges. “Not yet, angel. But give me a reason.”

Someone calls his name, music thumping harder, sparks rising from the flames. He doesn’t look away from you.

“Didn’t dress up,” he says, head tilting, eyes sliding down to the faint glitter on your collarbone. “Unless you count the halo I’m picturing.”

“Don’t,” you warn, fighting a smile.

“Too late.” He steps closer, close enough for the heat to feel like a pulse between you. “C’mere, angel. Lemme see if your halo fits in my backseat.”

You shake your head, but your pulse gives you away. “You’re impossible.”

He grins that slow, infuriating one that makes everything else fade. “Yeah,” he says. “And you’re still standin’ here.”

The fire pops, music fades, and the whole world shrinks to the space between his hand brushing your hip and the dare in his eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you whisper.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re already winning.”

He leans in, breath warm against your skin. “Angel,” he murmurs, “I never play to lose.”

And when the firelight hits just right, you can’t tell where heaven ends and hell begins only that he’s somewhere in the middle, waiting for you to follow.