Young Writers Society

The Halloween costume party is approaching, and I can hardly contain my excitement. Even though I can tell Ezekiel isn't thrilled about it, I am giddy. Who would have thought a guy like him would agree to go? But I guess he cannot resist my puppy-dog eyes as much as I cannot resist his dimple-clad mouth.

I was dead set on making us the most unique pair at the party, and he went along with it. We're going as animals—he will be a cunning fox, and I, a graceful deer. When the night of the party arrives, he comes over to my dorm. I carefully apply makeup to transform my face into a doe.

As I put antlers on my head, he leans down, his face beside mine. "Goddamn. How can you look both sexy and adorable at the same time?"

His response makes me beam. "See, this isn't going to be so bad after all, right?"

"If I get to stare at you all night, nope."

He heads to the bathroom to put on his costume, and when I see him as a fox, I react with a mix of admiration and, let's face it, attraction. He cleans up nice when he wants to, and that dapper fox look suits him more than he realizes.

But the real showstopper is me as the deer, and for once, not an ounce of self-doubt plagues me. I feel like I have grown into myself, but it does help that Zeke can't take his eyes off me.

The Halloween costume party is approaching, and I can hardly contain my excitement. Even though I can tell Ezekiel isn't thrilled about it, I am giddy. Who would have thought a guy like him would agree to go? But I guess he cannot resist my puppy-dog eyes as much as I cannot resist his dimple-clad mouth.

I was dead set on making us the most unique pair at the party, and he went along with it. We're going as animals—he will be a cunning fox, and I, a graceful deer. When the night of the party arrives, he comes over to my dorm. I carefully apply makeup to transform my face into a doe.

As I put antlers on my head, he leans down, his face beside mine. "Goddamn. How can you look both sexy and adorable at the same time?"

His response makes me beam. "See, this isn't going to be so bad after all, right?"

"If I get to stare at you all night, nope."

He heads to the bathroom to put on his costume, and when I see him as a fox, I react with a mix of admiration and, let's face it, attraction. He cleans up nice when he wants to, and that dapper fox look suits him more than he realizes.

But the real showstopper is me as the deer, and for once, not an ounce of self-doubt plagues me. I feel like I have grown into myself, but it does help that Zeke can't take his eyes off me.

We arrive at the party and are immediately met with curiosity, appreciation, and a bit of judgment from the crowd. Some people love our creativity, while others gossip about us being together. A girl dressed as a mermaid snickers to another girl disguised as a celebrity, "What is he doing here with her?"

I resist the urge to say something to them as Zeke pulls me closer, and we walk by. He whispers in my ear, "Fuck them. We're together, and that's all that matters."

Hand in hand, I drag him near the games and activities. He hesitates to join as he watches me play beer pong, leaning against the wall. I laugh as I continuously miss the cups across the table, slowly getting drunker with each fail. The game finishes, and my team loses.

"W-why won't you play?" I hiccup, giving him my best doe eyes.

"I'd rather watch your sexy ass do it." He flicks my nose, and I giggle.

A slow song starts playing, and I grab his hand, pulling him to the dance floor. We sway together, and the rest of the party disappears. It is just him—how he looks at me like I am his entire universe.

In his presence, I do not have to question myself. He doesn't ask me to be anyone other than me, doesn't expect me to be flawless, and embraces my imperfections. Our bodies move in perfect rhythm, and he makes me laugh about not knowing how to dance. I ignore the staring from the crowd. As the song ends, he pulls me closer, his lips hovering inches from mine.

But the moment is interrupted by Emily, who drags me away to take some pictures. I can tell Zeke is annoyed, but I smile and mouth, "I'll be right back." He nods, trying not to let his frustration show.

Once I return, he suggests we go to the darkroom to develop the photos he took during the event. With fingertips touching, he leads me from the party in the sorority hall to the art building. Once we enter the building, we go down a corridor I have never been in. We enter a small room, and he flips a switch. The room becomes densely lit in red tones.

"This is a darkroom. It is where photographers develop film," he says, walking up to the table and holding up an underdeveloped one. He explains each piece of equipment and is effortless in his knowledge. He describes how his grandfather gave him his first camera, and I see melancholy under his I-don't-care attitude for the first time.

"I would love to meet Benji one day."

"I would like that."

A silence falls between us. He turns to a few photographs in a stop bath. My vision becomes wobbly as I ponder the last few weeks. I cannot stop thinking about his hands. Tattoos line down both of his arms and neck. I would love to analyze them like curations in a museum, but I have yet to catch clear glimpses. From what I gather, some are tribal and archaic. Others are geometrics and full of lines. There may be some script along the inside of his arms, but I couldn't make it out. Each design leads from one to another until they alter into a smokey haze on his hands. The black ink on him against my ivory skin is a stunning work of art in and of itself.

I watch his hands work with the equipment and long for them to work on me. My body craves to be smothered in them again, to inhale nothing but his fumes, and to feel him release control as he makes me do the same. The freedom at that moment feels like a tethered balloon cut loose. I'm ready to be that balloon and let him take me into the stratosphere. Maybe I'm more drunk than I intended to get...

"Do you want me to show you how to do this?" he asks, and I jump, lost in my fantasies.

I nod. I do not dare speak for fear my voice will reveal my trembling.

He gestures to the equipment. Step-by-step, he walks me through exposing the film to a developer, what the stop bath does, and all about a photographic fixer. He casually explains how to wash prints to remove excess chemicals and begins to move and hang photos onto a wire suspended above the counter.

As we work side by side, he leans in, whispering in my ear with a playful grin. "You know, I can't help but think how fucking incredible you look as a deer. You'd bring any hunter to their knees."

My cheeks flush, but I don't back away. Instead, I look at him with a glimmer in my eyes. I am up for whatever mischief he has planned.

"You clean up pretty damn well as a fox, too. But you better be careful, or I might just hunt you down."

He laughs, and we stare at each other. We both know the chemistry between us, and there is no denying the desire we feel. He pulls me closer, his lips brushing against my neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses. My breath hitches, and my fingers trace a path up his arm, his body shuddering. We are dancing on a dangerous edge, but I can't bring myself to care.

When we pull away from each other, I glance around the room with his hands wrapped around me. He lets me go as I walk around the room to study the collection of photographs in different stages of progress everywhere. I am drawn to each image with nostalgia, my gaze lingering on the faces and scenes captured within the faded borders. The photographs seem to come alive, transporting me into them as if I were there experiencing them. I study the details, the emotions on each face, feeling a bond. I feel like a trespasser peering into the private moments of strangers, but the beauty of it all is compelling. I cannot tear my eyes away from the snapshots of life—an elderly woman waiting for the bus greeting the camera with a wave, a young couple embracing outside an old movie theater, a bee nuzzling into a rose, the sun shining through clouds.

I realize Zeke is staring at me as I live each moment. His dark eyes pull me closer, but he turns away and holds up another film. My thoughts flood with dirty possibilities of his hands on me; I bite my lip and take down a few developed photos, stacking them.

Once more, his eyes find mine, and before I can blink, his hands tangle in my hair, sending shivers down my spine. He doesn't kiss me. I pull towards him, and he gently but firmly keeps me from meeting his mouth. A soft, involuntary moan slips from my lips, and he smiles slightly, shaking his head. He is wrestling with something, but his eyes intensify with desire. He brings our lips together in a fiery and intoxicating kiss that knocks every ounce of self-control out of me.

He pulls away, and I whimper, wanting him back, but he walks over to the counter and grabs a water bottle. He takes a sip and then sets it down, staring at the floor.

"What's wrong with you?" I scold, crossing my arms, the liquor I drank insinuating my frustration.

He stares intently at me as if looking through me. "You." I barely manage to hear.

"...What do you mean?" I stammer, my mind racing to pinpoint anything I might have done wrong. The uncertainty weighs on me, making me doubt everything I've ever said.

"You care too much," he croons, his face distant.

"And you don't care enough!" I snap, annoyance crashing to the surface. The words escape before I can contain them. "You probably don't have a single solitary measure of care." I point a finger, pushing it firmly into his chest, my emotions surging like a tidal wave. The touch lingers for a moment, conveying my frustration and defiance. His eyes lock onto mine, and I can see a myriad of emotions on his face.

"What makes you think I don't have anything I care about?" he retorts, his voice tinged with anger and vulnerability. He places his hand over mine firmly as if urging me to understand. "I may not show it the same way, but that doesn't mean I'm indifferent to everything." His eyes soften, revealing the side of him similar to when he was talking about his grandfather. "You matter to me more than you realize."

My body lurches for him, tugged by a magnetic pull. We embrace again, our bodies pressed close together as if trying to merge into one. Our tongues intertwine, and the taste of desire lingers on his lips. Every moment shared like this makes it harder to wait..

He grabs onto me with force, and I wrap my legs around his waist as we continue to kiss. I feel him harden against me. I moan, and he pushes me toward the wall. Our kiss breaks as my back hits the cold brick, and my feet touch the floor. His hands rest on the wall near the sides of my face. He looks at me like a predator catching his prey, as if his every desire is conveyed through those piercing eyes. I feel completely exposed, yet oddly at ease, as if he can see the depths of my soul.

"Do you know what I want?" he asks, clenching his jaw.

I nervously shake my head, my thoughts not coming easily.

"I want to fuck you. I want to make you lose control. Every tremor or whimper that escapes your body, I want to be the cause. If you let me, I could bring you a pleasure you've never known."

I kiss him again, biting his lip. His hands grip my thighs, lifting me higher. He traces his tongue along my collarbone. I want him to let go, to give in to me.

"I thought you said you wanted to wait?"

He releases my body, and I slide slowly down until my feet touch the floor again. His touch sends goosebumps across my skin as one of his hands pushes up underneath my dress. The other traces a heart near my pelvic bone, and I involuntarily quiver in response. Amused, he toys with me, sliding his finger along the hemline of my underwear.

The red glow of the lights around us only intensifies the insatiable desire growing within me. I can tell he wants me as badly as I want him. I put my hands on the buttons of his pants, attempting to unbutton them.

"Easy, tiger," he taunts me as he grabs my wrists and places them on either side of me. "As much as the idea of taking you right here, in this room, and fucking you until the sun comes up is a fantasy I've dreamed of... we can't. This isn't the right moment, and you know it."

I sulk, crossing my arms, but he kisses my forehead and nose, lingering near my lips without touching them. I pucker them out, playfully stealing a kiss. "Don't pout. I can't take that," he mumbles, pushing a finger onto my lips, and I mischievously try to bite it.

"God, what is it about you that drives me crazy?" he asks rhetorically, breaking our embrace. The tension lingers, but he knows when to hold back.

As the party starts to wind down, we decide to call it a night. He walks me to my dorm, and we find Emily has decided to spend the night at Sebastian's, evident by her note. With the place to ourselves, we quietly slip inside.

In the twinkling-lit room, the atmosphere feels private, and we both know we want each other, but he's right. I'm not sober enough. I sit on the edge of my bed, trying to calm my body's reaction to him. He joins me, sitting close enough that our legs touch. I can see the desire in his eyes, but there's also tenderness there, a deep caring for me.

"You know. I'm not gonna lie. I want you. God, I want you so fucking bad, Abbie." He leans in, his lips hovering inches from mine.

I take a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest. "I want you too, Zeke," I admit, my voice barely a whisper. "But you're right. Tonight isn't the right time. I don't want to be drunk for our first time." A giggle escapes my mouth, sounding more intoxicated than I thought.

He nods, smiling. "I want you to be sober enough to remember how amazing I make you feel."

I reach out, placing my hand on his cheek, feeling the roughness of his stubble against my palm. "Thank you."

He leans into my touch, closing his eyes before looking at me again. "I won't ever make you do anything you don't want to do."

As we kiss, our hands linger, and our bodies move closer. When we pull away, we both let out a content sigh simultaneously, making us laugh. It is intimate, raw, and beautiful. The world may see us as a deer and fox–seemingly different–but together, we are kindred spirits asking each other just to be.

We spend the rest of the night in each other's arms, talking and laughing like we've known each other for years. The sexual tension is still there but is no longer the only thing between us. We've grown closer tonight, and I am trying not to fall in love with him, but it is hard.

As the night wears on, we eventually drift off to sleep. He lays on his back, and I, on my side. My head rests on his chest while one of my legs crosses over his. He has one arm around me, bent with his hand cradling my head, mindlessly playing with my hair. His other hand wraps around my waist, pulling me close to him. I may not have expected this, but as I close my eyes, I am thankful that life has brought me to him. With Ezekiel, I feel like the entire world and that I can conquer every piece of it.