A Pyte Halloween Party: Part I
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A Pyte Halloween Party
An R.L. Mathewson Chronicle
“Come on, please!” Izzy begged excitedly as she held up the Incredible Hulk costume that she’d found at the grocery store and just had to buy.
“Not happening,” Chris said, not bothering to look up as he carefully placed his sleeping son in his crib.
“No,” he simply said as he looked in on his other children and his baby brothers, all fast asleep and blissfully unaware how close they all were to being dressed up as minions for the Halloween party that the sugar crazed woman sitting in the corner had decided to throw.
“Come on! This would look great on you!” she said, holding up the horribly made costume with an excited smile.
“It’s not happening,” he said with a firm shake of his head as he walked over to her and scooped her up in his arms.
Deciding that asking wasn’t working for her, she decided to take a different route, the one that usually worked on him. She let her bottom lip tremble just enough to make the little sniffle she released hit its mark. He didn’t bother arguing with her, because he knew that she wasn’t going to let this go, so he settled for telling her, “No.”
She didn’t say anything as she laid her head against his shoulder and allowed him to carry her out of the nursery, and he didn’t expect her to. They both knew how this game was played and he wasn’t about to lose.
He kept his mouth shut as he carried her across the hall and into the large bedroom they shared. When he placed her on the oversized leather couch that she liked to work on and still didn’t say anything, he started to get a little nervous, because she never gave up this easily before.
He watched her as he stood up, noting that her little chin was still wobbling and that she wouldn’t look up at him as she reached for the laptop that she kept close to the couch so that she could work from their room when the need arouse. He watched as she absently pushed the Hulk costume off her lap and onto the floor with another one of those little sniffles that he refused to fall for.
He wasn’t wearing that fucking costume, going to the party that she’d decided to throw, or carrying the shitload of junk food in that she just had to buy tonight.
It wasn’t happening.
She could pout all she wanted, because he wasn’t giving in.
Not on this.
Just to make sure that they were clear that he wasn’t giving in on this, he said, “It’s not happening.”
“Okay,” she mumbled softly with a small shrug, clearly intent of screwing with his head.
“None of the other men are going to go along with this,” he pointed out, explaining that trying to play him into going along with this was pointless.
“Five days isn’t enough to plan a party,” he explained.
“We still have to figure out Halloween night with patrols and taking the kids Trick or Treating,” he reminded her, hoping that the reminder that they were taking the kids out for Halloween this year would distract her and-
“I was planning on wearing the costume in the bottom drawer,” she said, gesturing to bureau next to him, “if you wore this one.”
Sighing, because he knew that there was no way that he was going to be able to argue his way out of this one without looking at the costume, he leaned down, opened the drawer and-
“Oh, god,” he choked out when he reached down and picked up the tiny sliver of black lace that was barely thicker than a pencil.
“I was planning on wearing that after you promised to go, but since you’re not going…,” she said, letting her words trail off.
“I’ll go,” he thought he heard himself saying, but he really couldn’t be sure since he was busy trying to help his mate change into the strip of lace that he couldn’t wait to see her in.
To be continued…
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