The sun was setting, casting a golden hue over the football field as the Homecoming game entered its final quarter. But, you and Lip weren't paying much attention to the game—he'd dragged you off beneath the bleachers. You assumed he wanted to make out, or something, but you were just... sitting. Next to each other.

“You know, we're not allowed to be down here," you teased. "You're a bad influence."

Lip grinned, leaning back on his hands and looking over at you. “We aren't even doing anything!"

"And why's that?" You asked,

Lip moved closer, his knee brushing yours, his grin fading into something much more vulnerable. “Maybe you’re a good influence."

And then his fingers laced loosely with yours, and it felt more intimate than any kiss could've.