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All Hallow’s Eve was Henry’s favourite time of the year. The spicy autumn air was thickly shrouded by magic. Spooky tales and plastic spiders inhabited drapes of thin cotton tendrils and fat pumpkins carved with scary faces would sit on his doorstep to welcome him home or bid him farewell on his way out.
Per tradition, he would rally close friends at midnight for a horror flick and pineapple-anchovy pizza; often a bottle of rum would be added to the party. However, this Halloween fell on a bittersweet period, as his friends grew too old for said spooky gatherings. Starting new families of their own, they had no time to indulge him.
All save for her, who just like him was still somehow single.
How bad would it be to spend the evening just the two of them… alone? Ignoring the fact that it was enough to see her name flicker on the screen of his phone for pure warmth to enkindle in his chest. He thought about her often before he fell asleep and when he woke up; and by often, he meant every single day since he met her.
Though she didn’t think much of him as anything other than a friend she loved to banter with - he presumed. And of course she loved Kal, possibly more than she cared for him. Yet, Henry did what he did best: bury his emotions into a little pit he dug in the graveyard of his mind.
“Heh!” Henry croaked as the door opened. His sapphires ensnared the veils of black that cloaked her, preserving the sight of silk laces tied tightly at her torso in what seemed like a gothic medieval gown.
“I see you took off your costume for the evening."
She narrowed her eyes but only to observe his attire carefully: that same green hoodie and a pair of worn jeans that complimented his… asset.
She wanted to etch her fingers around the thick fabric and have a whiff of this hoodie, or perhaps just steal it and wear it forever and a day.
"First of all, it is called The Witching Hour so I must dress properly. Secondly - where is your costume, Cavill?” she crossed her arms together, looking rather displeased.
“I’m dressed as a homicidal maniac, we look like everybody else does.”
Snorting, she tilted her head, unimpressed. “You totally just stole this joke from Wednesday Addams.”
Henry shrugged and pressed his lips to a thin line. One of his foolish expressive gestures. It made her feel less nervous to which she was thankful. When she suggested they’d hang out despite them being the only two, she didn’t think much of the consequences of being all alone with the man who inhabited her mind and never paid rent. Everything about Henry made her feverish, but it was always easy when others accompanied them. The awkward anxiety of having to entertain him wasn’t her job, not up till now…
Oh, god! What if they had nothing to talk about? What if their playful chemistry was always influenced by the presence of other people?
Beads of sweat began to form below her breasts when Henry shoved a bottle of rum into her hand and then leaned in to steal a casual kiss from her cheek. She smiled with a friendly huff in return, stifling the shiver that coursed through her muscles while he welcomed himself into her home.
Striding forward, he peered at the Halloween decorations she hung across the walls and inhaled deeply - the scent of maple and buttery chestnuts filled the cosy little house, a scent that he could easily get intoxicated with.
It was what she smelled like and here he was, drowning in its excess.
After a quick observation, he turned to look at her, holding his hands clasped behind his back. She smiled awkwardly in return and then averted her gaze, becoming fascinated by the bottle he brought.
‘There it is,’ Henry mused, ‘that embarrassing silence, there is so much to tell her, but she probably… no! She definitely finds me boring.’
This Halloween celebration would probably be the last and it was all sorts of disastrous.
Trying to overcome the silence, he cleared his throat and reached a hand to scratch his curly mane. “So what movie are we watching?”
“Movie?” she asked confused and then quickly corrected, “Oh yes, umm… The Exorcist.”
“Good, love me some green vomit.” his eyes followed carefully as she waltzed into the small open kitchen, placing the rum on the counter and then returning with a large bowl that made his nostrils flare.
“Green vomit goes extremely well with caramelised popcorn,” she suggested and popped a golden flake of popcorn into her mouth.
“Sweet-salty popcorn? I love you!” Henry groaned and snatched the bowl right away. It was only when his mouth was stuffed that he realised what words he just used.
But she didn’t seem to react, thankfully. Instead, she brushed a hand over her many skirts and pointed toward the living room.
Hugging the bowl, Henry strode behind her, entering the dimly lit living room. The traditional pizza was already laid on the wooden coffee table, along with a few bottles of Guinness.
Her couch was small, only fit for a couple. And Henry, being a hulking man, took most of the space. Their thighs immediately ground into one another’s, yet they both pretended as if they hadn’t noticed the hot tingle running beneath the layers of clothing.
“I have to warn you about something,” she uttered, hoping that the tremor she suddenly felt in her body was not visible to him.
Henry crooked his eyebrow, looking at the ominous glare she offered.
“My house is totally haunted.”
Not waiting for his answer, she grabbed the remote and pressed play. Henry chuckled at her silly joke, waiting for her to break character but she only peered at the screen.
“Nice try, I am not scared of that stuff.” He shifted in his seat slightly, lifting his lengthy arm and spreading it on the headrest right behind her. Immediately, he regretted this semi-possessive masculine gesture, but it was too late to pull it away.
Her instincts screamed to snuggle into him yet she held back. “Don’t believe me, but I am not making this up,” she insisted, “Every night around 3 am, I hear scratching from within the walls and these thuds from the ceiling, and then one night… I woke up the door creaking.”
Henry glanced at her quietly for a long moment, watching the reflection from the screen gyrating over her glossy irises and then snorted. He leaned toward the coffee table and grabbed two beers, uncorking them with the help of his pinky ring and then offering her one of the bottles.
“I think you have rats.”
“Rats who make heavy thuds and open bedroom doors?”
“Yup, a big fat randy rat.” he teased. “We’ll take a look at your bedroom later, but I promise you, there are no such things as ghosts.”
‘We’ll take a look in your bedroom? Great…’ He berated himself. At this point, he just wanted to sigh and shake his head.
She peered at him oddly, her throat clenching a tad before she turned her head back to the movie with a mumble, “It’s not a ghost, it’s a demon.”
Within a few minutes they grew quiet, deciding to focus on the movie with the occasional dry jokes and bad puns from Henry as an attempt to overcome his anxiety. Outside the window, thunder rumbled in the distance and shy raindrops lightly kissed the glass, tinted with the many vague shades of lights coming from the street.
Now and then, Henry shifted in his seat, his meaty thigh further grinding into her leg which stirred her blood to the point of electric spasms. She lightly pushed against him, pretending it’s by accident when truthfully, she wanted to exploit every second of being in his proximity. Had she any guts, she would turn to kiss him, but the thought alone made her heart clench in fear.
She threw him a glance, and their eyes met. Henry offered a kind grin, avoiding staring at her lips. She smiled back coyly, her heartbeat accelerating with anticipation when the possessed girl in the movie made a horrifying groan that ruined the moment.
And then the room suddenly was swallowed in darkness, followed by a strong clap of thunder that tore open the sky.
In the scant moment of chaos, he heard a scream and then the light came back as if nothing happened, aside from the fact that she was now in his arms, with her legs straddling his waist, and her fingers clutching the collar of his hoodie.
Henry was unsure how and when his hand found itself latched to the small of her back, only that he didn’t want to let go. They exchanged bemused glances and swallowed the dryness parching their throats.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered hoarsely, “I got scared…”
Embarrassed to the point of tears, she attempted to climb off, wanting nothing more than to run to the bathroom and cry in hiding, when Henry sent a hand to stroke her temple and gently brushed his fingers behind her ear.
“Stay,” he insisted, squeezing into her lower back as if to prevent her from escaping.
Her lips parted slowly, the same golden hue that suffused the living room split into her eyes, beaming even brighter as he continued to caress her face before bringing her closer to graze her lips with his.
Halloween was, without a doubt, his favourite.