Since your first date, Spencer had made it clear how much he loved Halloween, so when you mentioned a trend you saw on Tik Tok in which people made spooky pizzas for Halloween, he decided to invite you over his apartment and make pizzas in the shape of ghosts and pumpkins. The fact is that you two never were physically affectionate towards each other: you two never held hands, or hugged… or kissed. And he has been wanting to kiss you since the coffee date you two had 23 days ago. And now you are in his apartment.

You look at him, laughing at the ghost he is trying to create “I swear, if ghosts were all so crooked no one would take them seriously” you say, as he fakes a pout holding back a laugh. “Hey!, don't insult my ghost, think of your pumpkin instead, it looks like an apple.”

You laugh sonorously and starefor a second too long at his lips, before looking back at your pizza dough. “Pumpkin, apple.... Potato, potahto.”

He couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t know how you expect me to compete with that logic,” he says, shaking his head. His hands continued awkwardly shaping the dough. You smirk, flicking a bit of flour at him. “Admit it, you’re just scared my pizza’s going to turn out better than yours.”

He feigned shock, glancing down at his crooked ghost. “Scared? Me? I’m a Halloween expert, I’ve got this in the bag.” But the grin he gave you betrayed how little seriousness he could muster. There is an undeniable lightness between you two, one that had been growing since your first date.

You edged a little closer, your hands now shaping the dough for a new pumpkin pizza, still glancing over at him every now and then. “So, what’s the prize for best pizza?” you ask, your voice a little softer now, more curious.

Spencer hesitates, his fingers fidgeting with the flour-dusted counter. As your question lingered, many ideas formed in his mind (even dirty ones).

“Well, I—uh,” he nervously began, “Maybe the winner gets to… decide what we watch after this? Spooky movie of their choice.”