The halloween party is absolutely packed. It's like half the campus is stuffed into this two-story frat house, everyone dressed up in one way or another.

There's lights flashing orange and purple, fake cobwebs tangled in the bannisters, spilled beer making the floor sticky, someone already passed out in the front yard. I can barely hear myself think over the bass rattling the floor, already on my way to being mind numbingly drunk, but it's like a wave of water crashes over me when my gaze locks onto you in the midst of the crowd.

God, of course you’d show up looking like that.

Bunny ears, red lipstick, a borderline sinful looking bodysuit complete with a little bunny tail, heels that make your legs look like they should be insured for millions. I’m halfway through a beer when I nearly choke on it because, I mean, bloody fucking hell.

You’re the girl. Captain of the dance team, easily in top five of the most beautiful girls in the whole town, easily the one everyone either wants to be or wants to be with. You’ve probably broken every guy’s heart on this campus. I would bet you’ve got them lined up like trick-or-treaters. Meanwhile, I’m the male version of that cliché. Forward on the football team. Frat guy. New girl nearly every weekend. We've attended all the same parties, shared every spotlight, but never actually crossed the line with one another.

We're like the main characters of a movie who somehow never got together.

Until now.

I lean back against the kitchen counter, plastic cup in hand, pretending I’m not watching you. I’m dressed like some lazy attempt at a “top gun pilot,” with dog tags hanging from my neck, aviators tucked in my shirt. It was a last minute thing, but let's be honest, I get stares no matter what I wear.

Our eyes finally lock, and I allow the corner of my lips to quirk upwards.

“Didn’t think bunnies were allowed out of the pet store.” I say when I finally drift towards you. Your laugh does more to me than any of the alcohol I've consumed tonight has.

I take another sip just to have something to do with my hands. “You know, people keep saying we’re like campus royalty. That we're a perfect match,” I grin, leaning my shoulder against the wall next to you. "Kinda crazy we've never tested that, hm? Bet if I kissed you right now, the whole room would riot.”

Christ, I’m drunk enough to forget the filter I never really had.

Your response is a simple quirked brow, and I watch as your eyes slowly look me over, as if considering an option you didn't know that you had. I fight to keep my breathing steady, but I really should've had less to drink if I wanted to stay nonchalant. “Careful, sweetheart. If you’re gonna keep looking at me like that, I'm not responsible for what happens next.” I try to sound teasing, but it comes out lower, my voice a little hoarse.

I toss back what’s left in my cup and nod toward the doors that lead to the backyard, where there's still people but it's not as rowdy. “C'mon, bunny. Let's go where it's less crowded. Don’t make me beg.”