Foto bij 536 - Emma

I've almost dozed off to sleep when I feel his kiss on my forehead, his words not much more than a whisper. With my eyes still shut, I can't help but smile as I snuggle up closer to him.
This night has been nothing but perfect. It was the best way to remember Louis without making it all sappy and sad, and everyone around seems to feel the same way. It's peaceful and quiet, laughter errupting every once in a while.
"Okay," I hear Lucien's voice say, a shift in his position, "it's time for us to go to bed."
Immediately, I open my eyes, shaking the near sleep out of my body. "No, no," I have to surpress a yawn as I say it, leaning a little more upright. "I'm awake."
He laughs, as does Kenna. They know me very well, and know that I won't be caught going to sleep whilst others are still up and social.
Lucien pulls me in to his chest, kissing the top of my head. From the corner of my eye, though I might be imagining it, I see Brie's facial expression change.

When Lucien asked me to come to this uppity Halloween party he was invited to, I shot it down almost immediately. We may have come out as a couple again, I'm not sure if I'm ready to go back out there and be around important social media influencers again. Besides, I'm not the biggest fan of the holiday,
Then, the day of, I change my mind. I'm not sure what it is, but I realise that I can't keep running away from things like these.
Lucien has been out for most of the day, and when he returns, surprise and confusion is on his face as he spots me in front of the full-body mirror in our bedroom.
"I hate to ask," he says, brow furrowed, a hint of a laugh in his voice. "But why are you all done up like that?"
I stop applying the red lipstick for a second, turning to face him. The eyeshadow was easy, and consisted of mostly smacking some grey on my lids and lining my eyes with black, curling the shit out of my lashes. My cheeks are covered in blush, and I've even managed to contour a little thanks to this handy youtube tutorial.
The make-up, paired with my sweatpants and black top might not give it away just yet, but I just stand there for a second, letting Lucien take in the view.
"I changed my mind," I chuckle as he scans me up and down,
"About what?" he still looks confused.
"Halloween, you dummy," I watch a smile creep onto his face.
"You're coming?" he sounds like a child for a second, yet still seemingly confused, which I can't blame him for. "As... what, exactly?"
"Give me a second," I smile, lifting the short, blonde wig out of its designated hiding spot. It took me some time to come up with a fitting costume, especially last-minute, "Any guesses?"
I can almost hear his brain trying to come up with an answer, and frustrated he shakes his head. "Should I know this?"
"Oh, you should," I chuckle, "believe me. But I understand it doesn't quite make sense yet. Let me just..."
If people found out this costume is a repeat from years ago, they might judge me. Social media people prepare their outfits for party like these, preferably months in advance. Luckily, no one will know, because I doubt there are pictures of the night I wore this costume to.
I slide my sweatpants off of my legs, and throw the tanktop onto the bed, leaving me in just my underwear. "I will be right back."
      With the amount of hair on my head, having grown quite a bit ever since I cut it last, it takes me longer than I'd anticipated to get the blonde wig onto my head. It's all done up in nice braids, and covered with the wig cap the nice lady at the store sold me.
The dress, if I can even call it that, still fits, and the over-the-knee boots are borrowed from Kenna, just like I did years ago. With the heel under them, it's not too easy to walk in them, but I'll be fine. To prevent it all from chafing, I'm wearing see-through tights, and when I look at myself in the mirror, I can't help but smile.
I remember years ago, no matter how much I loved my outfit, I hated how I looked. I was insecure about every single inch of my body, the way my stomach poked out of the sides of the top and bottom, and I religiously wore the oversized red blazer all night. I'd spend days sewing the outfit myself, learning how to use a sewing machine with my mother's help, yet kept most of it covered because I was afraid people would judge how I looked.
Tonight, I find the opposite. As I pin the little baret to the top of my wig and hang massive hoops in my ears, I feel sexy. I may look cheap, but that's exactly the point of the entire outfit. "So," I call out from the bathroom, hanging the bulky necklace around my neck. "I know our outfits do not match, but it wasn't possible to find something that would in such a short amount of time. So I went for the next best thing..."
Zipping up both of my boots, I turn the lock to the bathroom door. On my phone, that's connected to the little bluetooth speaker in our bedroom, I play the only song that fits my outfit perfectly without immediately giving it away.
"You're either going to love it or hate it," I warn him.
"Well, don't keep me waiting any longer, then," he laughs, just before I swing the door open.
"Oh baby," I smile, leaning against the doorframe. "I'm gonna treat you so nice, you're never gonna let me go."

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