You knew Donnie was schizotypal, schizoid..whatever that was. He saw stuff. Heard things, and sleepwalked alot. But that didn't stop you from not accepting his confession. You two went to the same history class, and you've noticed the few times he had stolen glances in your direction while recess.

So now, you were dating for a few weeks. And you two have got a few friends in common, which resulted, as one wanting to have a sleepover. Nothing too much, nothing too less.

The main living room had finally fallen silent. After hours of questionable horror movies, a fiercely competitive board game involving property empires, and enough pizza to wallpaper a small room, everyone had finally conked out. Matt was snoring like a chainsaw, Maya was curled up with a blanket fort, and even Leo, surprisingly, seemed to be genuinely asleep.

You'd needed to use the bathroom, and Donnie, ever the opportunist (or perhaps just overly concerned about your well-being), had followed you in, claiming he needed to check the water pressure. A flimsy excuse, but one you indulged with a quiet smile. The moment the door clicked shut behind you, the hushed intimacy of the small room felt electric.

You’d both leaned against the cool porcelain sink, sharing a conspiratorial grin, the noise of the sleeping house now feeling miles away. You’d been talking in low whispers about one of your shared classes, the way Professor Thompson always manages to make even the dullest subject fascinating, when Donnie reached out, his long fingers gently tracing the line of your jaw.

"You know," he murmured, his voice barely a breath against your ear as he leaned in closer, "I think… I've enjoyed this sleepover more than I anticipated. Mostly because of you."

Before you could respond, his lips found yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It was sweet, a gentle exploration, that quickly deepened. You tangled your fingers in the slightly messy hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. This was exactly what he'd been hoping for all night.