Page 47 of Fixing the Grumpy Pumpkin King
Locke reached the bottom of the stairs and stopped, letting his eyes adjust. Slowly, shapes emerged from shadow. Storage boxes. Old equipment. And in the corner, massive and ominous, a giant pumpkin.
No carved face. No jack-o’-lantern grin. Just smooth, gloomy darkness made physical.
But Locke could feel Jack inside it. Feel his presence like a heartbeat.
He walked toward it slowly, carefully, like approaching a wounded animal.
“Jack? I know you’re in there.”
Silence.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for hesitating. For making you think I didn’t want you.”
The pumpkin didn’t respond.
“I was scared. I’ve been scared this whole time. Scared of not being good enough for you. Scared of leaving my family behind. Scared of...of losing myself. Of this being too good to be true.”
Locke got closer. Placed his hand on the smooth surface. It was warm. Alive.
“But I was overthinking it. Making it more complicated than it needs to be. Rowan helped me see that. We can figure it out.” His voice grew stronger. More certain. “All I know is that I want to be with you. That’s enough. Everything else? We’ll figure it out together. I’m sorry I didn’t trust that. Trust you. Trust us.”
Locke’s forehead rested against the pumpkin. His eyes closed.
“I love you, Jack. I don’t want to be without you. Living with you, waking up to you every day...I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want to lose you.”
The pumpkin began to dissolve. Not breaking or shattering, just melting away like shadow at sunrise. And there was Jack, emerging from the darkness.
Not in his pumpkin-headed form. His true self. Fae. White-gold hair catching what little light filtered down. Golden skin and pointed ears and eyes like autumn itself. Beautiful and vulnerable and so, so careful.
“Do you know what you’re saying?” Jack’s voice was quiet. Guarded. “What you’re pledging?”
“Yes. I know what I want.”
Jack stepped closer but stopped just out of reach. “What about your former lover? I saw you together. He kissed you.” His voice dropped, went dangerous. “I would turn that fool into a toad for daring to touch what’s mine... if you are mine…”
Locke laughed, short and genuine. “You don’t have to do that. Though that would be funny. But you don’t have to. Because Ichoose you, Jack. He kissed me, and it was disgusting. I pushed him off. I wanted nothing to do with him. I don’t give a damn where he is or where he’s going.”
“You’re certain?” Jack closed the distance a little more. Hope flickered in his expression, cautious but growing. “Truly certain?”
Locke reached for him, closing the final gap between them. “To hell with this haunted house. I don’t care if you use magic to turn all these animatronics alive and the people just run out screaming. I want to take you home. And together, we’ll figure everything else out.”
Jack’s hands cupped his face. Gentle and reverent.
They kissed.
It tasted like a homecoming. Like every doubt and fear dissolving into certainty. Sweet and desperate and perfect.
“Ugh! Ew! Dude, gross!” Ghosty’s voice cut through the moment. “Send me back, I don’t wanna see this lovey-dovey crap!”
They ignored him completely. Kept kissing. Kept holding each other like they’d never let go again.
“This is so not rad...” Ghosty faded out, still complaining.
Above them, they could hear the familiars celebrating. Pip’s excited yipping. Bramble’s relieved laughter. Russet’s delighted crackling.
But down here, in the darkness that was slowly filling with light, it was just the two of them.
Together.
