and suddenly a movement in the corner of the room
eric foreman & chris taub = foreman and taub spend their halloween night watching a (terrible) ghost movie. and are totally not spooked by it. (promptober day nineteen: ghosts)
HALLOWEEN WASN’T EXACTLY WORTH CELEBRATING when you were two overworked doctors in your thirties with no partners, kids, or anything better to do.
That’s why Taub and Foreman ended up on the couch with a a half-eaten pizza, and a dvd copy of some low-budget horror film about a vengeful ghost haunting a small town.
“... That’s the ghost?” Foreman questioned at one point, seeming genuinely baffled by the quality of the movie. “That looks like a bed sheet with holes cut in it.”
“Shhh,” Taub shushed, fishing out popcorn from the bowl as his eyes stayed fixiated on the screen, “You’ll hurt its feelings.”
By the time the credits rolled, they were both complaining about how bad the movie had been.
“God, what was that ending? Come on,” Taub chuckled, stretching his legs out on the coffee table. “I’ve read better ghost stories written by middle schoolers!”
“... You’ve read ghost stories written by middle schoolers?”
“That’s not the point.”
They both just stared at each other before, almost in unison, declaring the night a bust and retiring to their separate bedrooms. Foreman shut off the last of the lights while Taub said something about brushing his teeth under his breath.
Taub lay on his back, staring at the shadows in the corners of his room.
Every creak sounded suspiciously like footsteps; every shift of the pipes sounded like a whisper. He tried to tell himself that it was nothing. He was too old to let a bad movie crawl under his skin.
Across the hall Foreman was in the same boat.
He flipped onto his side, then onto his back, then onto his stomach. His mind wouldn’t shut up — science and logic didn’t stop the tiny voice in his head saying what if.
At some point, he sat up, scrubbing his hands over his face as he let out a sigh. At almost the exact same time, taub swung his legs out of bed.
Neither had planned to actually knock, but when Taub opened his door, he found Foreman already standing in the hallway, hand half-raised, looking just as startled as he felt.
“Uh,” Taub started, voice low in the dark. “Couldn’t sleep?”
Foreman lowered his hand, furrowing his brows. “Movie wasn’t scary,” he exclaimed defensively, unsure if he was trying to convince his roommate or himself.
“Totally not scary,” Taub agreed quickly in that same defensive tone.
They stood there awkwardly. Two grown men in pajamas, both too stubborn to admit they were spooked.
The two ended up stretched out on top of the covers in Foreman’s room. They climbed under the covers, each sticking to their own side, while they stared at the ceiling with the warm yellow light of Foreman’s bedside lamp chasing away the shadows.
Within minutes, the steady sound of Taub’s breathing filled the room, and foreman, againsr all odds, found himself relaxing.
That ghost movie was still stupid and he was obviously not scared of it. But maybe being boring roommates with Taub and watching stupid movies with each other wasn’t the worst thing in the world.
Foreman smiled, feeling his eyes slipping shut too.