Aren't You Too Old to be Trick or Treating? (Phil Lester x Reader)

"Nobody comes here."

You woke up at around noon, surprised you had slept in so late. You quickly put on some black jeans and a t-shirt. You then sat back at your sofa and watched your favorite scary movies and eating candy alone, hugging a pillow. 

You started a game. Whenever you jumped or screamed, you would check the time, just to be sure you didn't stay up too late, it was a work night after all. This only lasted for the beginning of the first movie, and you forgot to check the time the rest of the time later. You checked the time. It was 7:01. Wasn't too late, but it was about time to stop the movies and pretend you weren't home, just to keep the trick or treaters away. While you were turning off the movie that was now playing the credits, you heard the doorbell. You quietly started to walk toward the stairs, pretending you weren't home, when you heard it again. You sighed, and walked toward the door. When you opened it, you saw a young man about your age. He had raven colored hair and bright blue eyes that stood out among all his features. He had pale skin, too. He was wearing a black shirt with white ghosts and black skinny jeans with white shoes. You gave him a questioning look, but he wasn't looking at you, he was looking at the side. You had to look up at him, and it wasn't long before he noticed you were there. "Oh, sorry! I didn't see you.." His voice trailed off. "Aren't you too old to be trick or treating?" You asked, a little louder than you expected, but not sternly. You always thought there was no limit how old you could be to trick or treat, but you couldn't help but tease him. He looked so innocent, so pure, so.... awkward. You wanted to get to know him. Why he had mysteriously shown up at your door, and why was he in this part of town? "What? N-no sorry I.... I wasn't trick or treating, I-" You laughed at him, and he wasn't able to finish his sentence. He covered his face, pink slightly dusting his cheeks. You recognized him from somewhere. You saw him walking around London, of course, and you saw him at the Starbucks you rarely visit. You decided to ignore his argument that he wasn't trick or treating, and asked his name. "I'm Phil..." It looked as if he was debating whether or not to give is last name, but he did. "Phil Lester."

"Well, Mr. Lester, would you like to come inside?"