The café is bustling with customers, college kids rallying with coffee after pulling all-nighters, women in pencil skirts heading into work, men in suits and gelled hair.

I feel like a puppet being pulled in several directions at once. There's a line at the register, people waiting for their orders, and only myself and Kaila behind the counter.

Correction, there's only me.

"Kaila!" I bark, a flash of blue hair pops around the corner, apron only partially tied to her body. "Get out here!" I demand.

She flashes me a finger, mouthing "one minute." I roll my eyes, bustle back and forth, try and keep up with the foot traffic. Someone pounds on the counter, yelling for me to hurry up. Another customer talks over them, leaning so far over the counter that they nearly topple over it.

"Back up please, I can take your order," Kaila's voice sasses at my back. I give a silent sigh of relief and hand completed drinks off to frustrated people.

We work in a frenzy of voices, drinks, and rude demands for a while. The morning sun burns through the windows, casting an orange-yellow tint over the dining area.

Eventually, the hubbub dies down as the typical nine-to-fivers and parents with schoolchildren depart to play their respective roles, coffees and pastries in hand.

I cap the last drink, hand it to Kaila who turns and sets it in the customer's outstretched palm. "Here you go, have a great day!" She says cheerily, the patron smiles, thanks us, and slips out the door.

We sag against one another in relief, adrenaline pumping through our veins. "I hate the morning shift, ungrateful, impatient bitches." I whine, Kaila giggles at my side, pats my hand in mock sympathy.

"Aww, poor Reecie, she can't sit and drink coffee with a certain boy for most of her shift."

I jab her shoulder. Kaila squeals and slips away, smiling slyly. "You're one to talk!" I argue, yanking my thumb toward the break room and eying the beard burn along her neck. "Don't tell me you didn't have your tongue down a certain boy's throat just now!"

Kaila laughs, her cheeks burning. "What can I say? He's a good kisser." She states, not even trying to hide it.

I cross my arms and lean back against the counter. "You realize it won't last, right?".

"Maybe, maybe not. You can't know for sure." Kaila sucks her lower lip between her teeth and shrugs, but she doesn't meet my gaze.

"Kaila, he's a player. They all are."

Her eyes flash defiantly. "Even Bastien?"

I shift on my feet, suddenly fascinated with my shoelaces.

It's been days since the Adopt-A-Thon but he's been on my mind every moment since. Him and his goofy fluff memes and stupidly gorgeous body keep invading my thoughts, my focus, my entire being. My resolve against dating, my fears of relying on another person are starting to sound less and less reasonable.

I hate it.

I love it.

I hate that I fucking love it.

"What about Bas?" I sass back, Kaila snorts.

"You like him Reecie," she says, tone softening. "You don't think I see it?"

I set my jaw and shake my head, "No, I don't. We're just friends."

"He wants more," Kaila rebuffs.

Her phone pings. Saved by the bell. She digs it from her pocket, a Cheshire smile cracking her face when the screen lights up. "Spencer?" I assume.

Kaila nods. "It's about the game, the tickets for us."

"Right." The sarcasm in my tone is thick and grating. Kaila gives me an exasperated sigh.

"I know he's a one and down type of guy, okay?" She places her phone screen down on the counter. "But this doesn't feel like that. I can't explain it and I don't really know what makes it different."

I nod in response, choose not to push her any farther. Kaila is silent for a moment as she crosses and uncrosses her arms, green eyes lost in thought. Then she says, "Maybe you should stop thinking so much and just let yourself feel when you're with Bas, yeah?"

"Yeah right." I expel a disbelieving snort and pull compulsively on my hoodie sleeves. "It's not just that I'm scared of opening up to someone Kay. You know there's more." My tone is frigid with memory.

It's one thing to want to stop overthinking. It's another to have it happen.

Kaila sucks a breath in through her teeth, steps closer so that the few remaining customers can't overhear. "Reecie, it's been nearly a year since you ran. He's not looking for you anymore." She soothes, reaching out with a comforting hand.

I shake my head, step out of range. "I left in the middle of the night, broke all the control he thought he had over me. I'm the one that got away." I reply, staring into her eyes, searching for understanding. "He won't give up so easily."

**

It's nearly seven when I get off work, a full eight-hour shift plus overtime, and I'm exhausted. My feet hurt, I'm hungry, and desperate for a good night's sleep free of nightmares. As if.

"Hey Kaila," a familiar accented voice greets, I recognize it immediately and poke my head around the corner.

Bas has his elbows resting on the counter, chin propped in his hands, lazy smile on his lips. "Hey." Kaila nods, jerks her head toward the break room. "Back there."

His hazel eyes flit over her shoulder, lock on me.

"What're you doing here?" I say, slam my locker shut, and shrug into my coat.

Bas feigns offense. "You say such sweet things to me Reecie," he mocks, lips tugging into a full grin.

I scowl and round the counter, facing him. "Whatever."

Bas straightens and crosses his arms. His eyes twinkle as he appraises me, then his gaze shifts to the Wall of Expression. "Tagged again," he comments, approaching.

I swallow a bitter retort and follow.

"Yep, I noticed it this morning. My 'life is a series of failures' is now 'life is a series of changes.'" I roll my eyes, stare at the swirling letters and splashes of color, the drawing of a butterfly exploding from a cocoon at the end of it.

Bas glances over at me, a curious expression playing across his face. "I take it you don't like it?"

I sigh, fold my arms over my chest, and shake my head. "No, it's not that. I was mad at first," I pause to untangle my thoughts, string them together coherently. "Now I'm just irritated. I want to catch them, smack them upside the head, and then maybe offer them coffee."

Bas snorts with laughter and I can't help but smile. "So you're going to beat them up and then bring them a drink? Seems reasonable. Or kinky."

"Well, they're raining color and glitter all over my damn pity party. It's annoying!" I respond, incredulous. Bas's laughter deepens. "But," I add, "they're good, whoever they are. I want to meet them." I shrug, as if to say that's all there is to it.

Bas looks contemplative as he observes the script, eyes tracing the curvature of the lettering, the shadowing of the butterfly's wings, and the nearly indiscernible trace of black beneath it all. Then his eyes travel, zero in on my newest phrase.

"What's that?" He asks me, pointing at the flowing words.

I step closer to the wall, trace my fingers over the lettering.

It's easier to live in the dark than find the light.

"My newest phrase, this time I'm going to catch the bastard." I answer, spinning around to smile at him.

Bas's brows knit, hazel eyes serious as he stares at me. Then the look slips away as quickly as it had appeared. He beams and jerks his head toward the front door and the evening sky with its last few rays of sunlight disappearing over the horizon.

"Come on, I want to take you somewhere." He reaches for my hand.

I step back, feel an uncomfortable mix of elation and trepidation flood my nerves, warning bells sound in the back of my mind.

I glance over his shoulder, locking eyes with Kaila. She's pretending not to eavesdrop, her fingers playing absent-mindedly with the plastic cups and their respective lids. When her eye catches mine, she smiles encouragingly and nods. Go.

I press my lips together, glance at Bas through my bangs, and take his hand. "Okay."

If possible, his smile grows wider. The sight of it does funny things to my chest. Not good.

We wave goodbye to Kaila and step out into the frigid night air. His gray Audi is parked on the curb, the engine purring as we approach. He presses the small black button on the door handle, and it chirps.

"Remote start, it should be nice and warm." Bas promises as he opens the door wide for me.

Great. He's a gentleman, too.

I nod and shuffle inside. Immediately, blasts of heat assault my cheeks and nose.

Bas settles into the driver seat. "It's not a long drive."

I click my seatbelt on and place my hands in my lap. "Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise."

I wrinkle my nose. "I'm not a big fan of surprises." I warn.

Bas smirks and it warms me deeper than the heater. "You'll like this one." He pulls into traffic, though there isn't much.

The drive is short, just like he said. The radio plays softly the whole time, and the comforting sound of the shifting engine keeps the quiet from being awkward. I've nearly fallen asleep when he parks and gently jostles my shoulder.

"Reece, we're here."

I sniff, press my palms into my eyes, and expel a short, tired sigh. "Too soon," I grumble.

Bas chuckles and pats my leg. "Come on, sleepyhead."

I drop my hands and shove his shoulder. "Shut up, I had a long day."

We climb out of the car into a whirlwind of lights, people, and noise. I search our environment, picking out a sign that says Cincinnati Light Trail of Ault Park and people standing in line.

"Christmas lights?" I question, finding Bas's figure in the dimness.

He crosses to me and puts an arm around my shoulder, "Yep, there's a stand selling cocoa too. You want some?"

I follow his gaze and see the small building. My mouth waters and I nod in response, not fully aware of the action until Bas is guiding us toward it.

The line moves rather quickly and Bas orders two cups of cocoa. When I start to pull out my card, he shakes his head and gives them his. My heart twists in my chest, that unfamiliar warmth spreading all the way to my fingertips.

"You shouldn't—"

"It's just a nice gesture," Bas cuts me off, sets the warm cup between my hands. "As friends." He adds.

I pinch my lips and nod.

Then we're standing in the line of people, inching forward with the crowd, staring at the entrance where lights of all colors and shapes are visible along the path. People chatter eagerly around us, couples huddle close to preserve heat, kids giggle and chase each other.

We sip our cocoa, exchange light-hearted conversation. He talks briefly about practice and the crossover drills they ran today. I talk about the assignment that has us using MS Paint to create designs and lament about the lack of layering capability in the program. To my immense surprise, Bas seems genuinely intrigued.

"I'm worried I bombed it," I confess, sucking my teeth.

"N'aw," Bas returns easily. "You kicked ass."

Even if it's just empty comfort, my heart flutters a little. "There's so much talent in that class, though. People have such a solid concept of the program tools. I'm alright with pencil and paper or canvas, but digital media is a whole different beast."

"You're great with Sharpie." Bas runs a calloused thumb over the back of my hand, tracing my latest illustration. I'm glad the dark hides my blush, thankful he can't see the ribbon of fire he triggers through my veins. "I'm sure you rock with the digital stuff. You need to have more confidence in yourself, Reece."

Hah. Yeah right.

Bas tilts his head as though he heard my thoughts. "Seriously. I think you're pretty fucking awesome."

The heat in my face could melt the snow around us. "That's just because I'm not throwing myself at you like all the other women you're used to."

"That," he concedes with a debonaire grin, "and you're not afraid to give me shit."

I giggle and shoulder him lightly. "Putain."

Bas lets out a loud bark of laughter that has heads turning toward us throughout the line. Thankfully, we reach the beginning of the trail. Bas's hand finds my waist, settles itself on the ridge of my hip. I jump in surprise but don't dislodge it. It feels...right. Comforting, even.

Suddenly, the dark little park is lit with sparkles, glittering decorations, and electronic Santas that wave as we pass. Reindeer, minions wearing scarves, Mickey and Minnie ice skating, inflatables that move; a cat jumping out of a present, an elf holding arrows and pointing at the North Pole, reindeer that push their noses into the snow, lift their heads, and repeat.

"What do you think?" Bas says, his mouth close to my ear.

I shiver when his breath fans over my chilled cheek, clear my throat to hide the reaction. "It's pretty," I say, hating how breathy my voice sounds.

Up ahead, an inflatable Jack Skellington sits on top of a Christmas tree. Presents tumble down the sides of it as Jack stretches out precariously to reach for the falling star topper.

I giggle, point at it. "I like that one."

Bas eyes follow my finger, his lips quirk. "I should've guessed."

"Oh yeah, why?"

We continue down the path. Bas glances down, gives my waist an affectionate squeeze. "Out of all the Christmas spirit in this place, you like the only thing that has a connection to Halloween."

I scowl at that. "So what? It's just as Christmas-y." I argue.

Bas rolls his eyes, "He's trying to steal Christmas, turn a happy holiday upside down."

I snort and discreetly extract myself from Bas's hold, feeling less comfortable in it. "That's not how I see it."

"Really?" Bas challenges, stopping suddenly.

I turn to face him, about to fire insults at him, but he's looking at me strangely, worriedly. I wither under that stare, shift anxiously on my feet, clutch tighter to my hot cocoa.

"Yeah," I defend. "He's not trying to steal Christmas, he's just trying to bring the joy of Christmas to Halloween Town. And the fun of Halloween to Christmas. Sure, he fucked it up, but his heart was in the right place. Or bones – guess he really doesn't have a heart, does he?" I'm rambling, but I can't seem to make myself stop. "Besides, if you read the book, Jack and Santa get together at the end and discuss doing a holiday swap the right way next time around."

Bas is quiet for a moment. I feel his eyes on me but can't be brought to look away from my hot cocoa.

Then a rich, deep chuckle resonates from his chest. "You're one of those people, eh?"

This time I do look up. "One of what people?"

"The people who always boast that the book is better."

He reaches out for me, tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. The action is so intimate and sudden I forget to be self-conscious. I forget a lot of things, staring up into those expressive hazel eyes while they glitter in the colorful lights.

"Told you. You need to have more confidence in yourself." His husky voice rumbles, sends shivers up my spine that have nothing to do with the cold. "That right there? That was cool."

"Right." I say airily. What is wrong with me? "Um...shall we?"

"Reecie," Bas pulls on my bicep, moves us out of the flow of people. Half his face is covered in shadow, the other illuminated by Jack and his tree. "Do you mean the things you write on the wall? Or are they just ways to express yourself?"

Against my will, my heart does a strange little dance at the tenderness in his tone.

Still, I pretend not to understand his question. "What?"

"You know what I mean." Bas answers a bit more fiercely. He comes ever closer, I catch the sharp alpine scent of him, and my stomach flops places with my heart. I swallow and look up, meet his hazel eyes, the naked sincerity in them.

"Both, I guess." The truth in my response startles me, I hadn't meant to give him a real answer.

Bas tilts his head, eyebrows furrowed. "Meaning?"

I sigh and look around at the Christmas decorations, anything to avoid his gaze.

"Some of them I mean, others are just my way of expressing the unwelcome emotion." The truth continues to spill from my lips, even when I try to force it back down. "Like," I pause, remember my phrases and pick the best example. "It's safer being empty, that one I mean."

"Why?"

"Because," I leer up at him, suddenly defensive. "Whoever said that safer isn't better clearly hasn't been in an unsafe situation. I have." I point a finger at my chest, cheeks burning with the admission. Shut up, stop talking! I bite my lips, knowing I've already said too much.

Without waiting to see his reaction, I spin on my heel and rejoin the crowd. After a few moments, I feel Bas's presence at my back.