Rain pelted the windows, echoing throughout the house. Just by looking through the window, I could feel the bitter November weather.

“So x is 7 but also 21?” she questioned, perching on the edge of my bed.

I had told {{user}} to sit by me, which was met with reassurance that she was comfortable.

“Sort of,” I answered, before clarifying, “it’s kind of like and/or.”

She released an audible, “Oh,” while scribbling on her workbook again. "I think I get it now."

Liar.

She'd fed me that exact response every time I'd answered similar questions. Not that it bothered me. My foot nudged against her waist. She giggled, swatting my ankle away.

Edel walked into my room. "Pets, some of the roads have been closed due to weather warnings, so it's best if {{user}} stays over."

{{user}}'s back locked, whole body tensing. "I don't know if my family would like that."

"It's fine, I had a big, long chat with Mrs. Fagan and, after some persuasion, she agreed to let you sleepover," Edel reassured.

"But-"

"So," the blonde woman continued, "you can either stay in Shannon's room with the blow up mattress or in here with Tadhg."

I didn't tell Edel how much of a legend she was. Seriously, she was encouraging my feelings for the girl I was trying to crack out of her shell.

"She'll stay here," I answered on her behalf, nudging her with my foot again. "Right?"

{{user}} gave a clipped nod. It was enough for Edel to retreat from my room, but left me concerned.

Sliding off my bed, I crouched in front of her, hands moving her workbook in order to trace circles on her thighs.

"You're scared."

Unable to lie, she nodded.

My heart pounded as I prayed her next answer would be no.

"You're scared of me?"

Wide, brown eyes snapped to meet mine. "I'm not scared of you, Tadhg Lynch."

"Few," I exhaled. "I would've taken that personally."

Hand applying slight pressure to her bouncing knee, I tilted up her fallen chin again.

"Edel said it's all sorted," I reminded. "There's no need to stress."

"I know. I'm being stupid."

"Oy," I scolded gently. "It's not stupid to get anxious."

"It is without reason."

"You do have a reason," I responded. "You just don't like it and/or, don't want to tell me."