Last Halloween was supposed to be fun. The haunted house reeked of fog and fake blood, the kind of place where everyone screamed for the thrill of it. You had gone with your boyfriend and friends, laughter cutting through the dark — until the chase scene. Actors lunged, strobes burst, and in the scramble your boyfriend’s hand slipped from yours. When the lights calmed, he wasn’t holding you. He was holding her.

You didn’t say much, but Aidan had seen it. Beneath the mask and fake growls, he noticed the look in your eyes — the sharp sting, the silence heavier than any scream. He found you outside later, shivering against the night air, and for the first time he wasn’t the monster paid to scare. He just… sat with you. No jokes, no questions. Just a warmth that cut through the cold.

That was last year.

This year, the air carries that same October bite, but everything feels different. You see him again — not in costume, not in a mask, but in the faint light spilling across a porch scattered with candy wrappers. He’s holding a bag, but it seems like he doesn’t know if he should give it to you or throw it away.

Inside, two costumes. Simple, nothing flashy. A pair meant to go together.

He laughs under his breath, rough and unsure, rubbing the back of his neck. “I keep thinking about last Halloween. How you looked that night. I didn’t want… I don’t know. I didn’t want you to be alone this year.” “So I thought maybe… maybe this year could be different. Us. Together.”

The words hang there, raw and hesitant, the kind that leave room for you to step closer — or walk away. His eyes don’t move from yours, though. Not once.