“i’m only mildly into autumn,” i say as i sip pumpkin spice coffee from a skull mason jar and eat ginger spice cookies while listening to a playlist entitled ‘spooky17’ and pressing leaves into my sketchbook
Feyre, you have to go, it’s Halloween,” Mor pleads with me from where she is
perched on my bed.
I swivels in
my chair. I was sitting at my desk, my latest project –which was giving me
hell— was sitting atop it.
assignment was to create a life like version of an iconic character, villain,
or Halloween monster.
know I would love to go with you, but I need to finish my project. Plus, I
don’t have a costume,” I admit, to her, I tap the end of my graphite pencil on
the sketchpad next to my blank canvas. I hadn’t even begun to paint, and dozens
of pieces of paper littered the floor around my desk. The assignment was due on
Tuesday. Three days, that’s all I had now, and there was nothing on my canvas.
I look over
to where Mor was sitting on my bed. Her makeup was already done. This year she
was going as Tinkerbell and Peter pan with Azriel. Her golden hair was thrown
up into an expertly slicked back bun. Sparkles adorned her cheeks and her eyes
were done up in golds and soft shades of green.
We had both
gotten grumbles from Azriel about wearing tights. Tights, and the fact that he actually had to
wear a color other than black for once in his life. The only reason he had shut
up about it was because of the fact that Mor had told him that she would take
it all off for him after the party.
“Come on Feyre, Rhys will be there, and you can wear my
costume from last year, you’ll look so good in it. Please?” She dragged out the
word as she clasped her hands together just below her chin.
Her lips were pulled into a pout, and I swear she was giving
me puppy dog eyes.
My teeth clench together. I had tried not to think about Rhys
or our fateful meeting of me beating him with a shoe. He was still in town, and
ended up taking up the spare room in Cassian and Azriel’s house as a more
permanent residence for the time being.
I had narrowly avoided him while he was staying here, but
since he moved out I hadn’t see him. I would never admit this out loud, but
some nights I would wake up with those damned eyes and his tattoos lingering
behind me eyelids.
Damn his sexy tattoos.
And then of course there was the time I had walked in on him
in the bathroom. In my defense, I thought he was Mor. We shared a bathroom so
we were always walking in on each other.
But one day, I was dying with a headache and needed to get
into medicine cabinet for Advil before it turned into a migraine. I walked
right in on Rhys.
The water had just been shut off when I was trying to find
it—I had heard curtain being pulled back as I grabbed the bottle and poured a
few into my hand.
“Sorry Mor, I was just–” my sentence was cut short then,
because Rhys was the one in the shower, not Mor.
He had had a towel slung low on his hips, water still
glistening on his sculpted chest and abdominals.
Good god, it was in that moment that I had decided I found
tattoos incredibly attractive. Swirls of dark color covered his chest and
shoulders, then faded out in tendrils of ink down his arms.
He had smiled at me with a wicked grin.
“You could have told me you were going to join me in the
shower, Feyre darling,” he had purred at me.
“I’ve been to Halloween Horror Nights the third weekend in a row. My whole apartment is full of Halloween decorations and I’ve been planning my Halloween party since two months now. If you can’t tell I’m obsessed with Halloween yet you’re obviously not paying attention to this conversation.” Val giggled, the excitement was clearly visible on her face as she was talking. “Also, you’re definitely invited to my Halloween party at my karaoke bar. I promise you won’t regret attending it and I won’t force you to sing if you don’t want to.”