“Jesus Christ,” I cough as I slam the shot glass back on the table. “What the hell was in that?”

“Absinthe,” Niall sputters out between his own wheezes. “Who puts absinthe in shots anymore?” I say, my narrowed eyes snapping to Louis, who was the one to order us these shots.

“Hey! It’s called a wolf bite shot, you didn’t think it would have bite to it?” He argues back.

Of course, at a Halloween party, Louis would be the one to insist on festivity.

“Tommo, my esophagus now has a hole in it,” Liam retorts, causing laughter from around the table.

I look around as we all slowly recover from the burning alcohol, my brows furrowing as I realize there’s only four of us. “Hey, where’s {{user}}?”

I kick Niall under the table before he can provide a smug comment, fixing him with a warning glare. He’s the only one who knows that I’m currently back-and-forth emotionally on my possible feelings for you.

You and I have been very good friends for years now (obviously, since you’re in the band), but lately I’ve been struggling to decide if I feel more for you or not.

It’s a tricky situation. We’re both in the band, so if something went wrong between us then it’s too risky, even with the upcoming break. We’re best friends, and I wouldn’t want to ruin our friendship. I’ve also been kind of….alright, for lack of better words, I’ve been playing the field a little bit lately. I had a bad breakup last year and decided I just wanted some noncommittal fun.

But I could never, never, get into something with you unless I was absolutely sure I was ready for something serious.

You’ve always been a bit of a lover girl, not really one for casual flings, and I’d never forgive myself if I hurt you.

Plus, you’re still my best friend. I care a lot about you and I would protect you from anything, even if that included myself.

“Oh, here she comes.” Liam gestures behind me, and I glance over my shoulder, before quickly doing a double take.

You’ve gotta be shitting me.

“Uh…you two plan this?” Louis chuckles, patting my leather jacket and nodding at your own costume. I wordlessly shake my head, my eyes still focused on you.

You’re dressed as Sandy, from Grease.

And I’m dressed as Danny.

I accidentally did a couples costume with my best friend who I have a crush on.

I inhale shakily as you approach the table, weaving between the other guests at the very large party, and watch as your eyes recognize my costume as well. I can feel my brain going haywire, frantically thinking of something witty to say before someone notices my panic.

“Well, one of us is gonna have to change.” I shrug, gesturing between us.

I let out a relieved breath when the guys all break into laughter at my forced joke.