Hook: No Returns After Midnight 🎃

He broke my heart in July. In August we gathered the shards. Lizz the cat purred them out from under sofas, the skeleton dragon lined them up with sharp bone fingers in their original shape. In September we stitched them back together with care and love, one drop of candle wax for every scar. In October it beat again, louder and steadier than any Halloween doorbell. Today he crawled back. "Baby, second chance?" Lizz hisses, the dragon smiles without lips, guarding my side, and I point to my chest where my heart glows, because of the scars or in spite of them. Now crowned with thorns. "Trick or treat?" I ask. "You get neither. You already ghosted me—and spoiler: ghosts aren’t on my guest list." He mumbles about regret, about a pumpkin-spice fresh start. I nod, solemn. "Cute. But around here we follow the old porch rule: lights off means no candy. For exes: no returns—especially not after midnight." Lizz, the cat, draws a graceful claw through the air; the dragon lifts a bony wing in polite farewell. I turn back to my people. We still have leaves to scatter, sparks to blow, a night to celebrate. My heart blinks warm. He crawls back to wherever he came from. And somewhere, another doorbell rings.

Hours Spent: 12
Software Used: DAZ Studio 4 With IRAY, Photoshop