The house was quiet at midnight, save for the hum of the fridge and the occasional creak of the old hardwood floors beneath your feet. You were in the kitchen, rubbing sleep from your eyes as you filled a glass with water, barely awake enough to care that the room was dimly lit by only the stove light.

You lived with Jacob out of necessity, your parents had never been much help, and affording a place on your own wasn’t an option. It wasn’t ideal, but it was home. Most nights, you could pretend it was just fine.

Tonight felt different, though.

A shuffling noise behind you made you jump. You turned quickly, heart skipping before you realized who it was. Alex stood in the doorway, his dark hair messy from sleep, gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips, a t-shirt thrown on haphazardly like he hadn’t expected to run into anyone.

“You scared me,” you muttered, pressing the cold glass to your lips.

He smirked, leaning against the counter like he belonged there. “You’re the one creeping around the kitchen at midnight.”

You rolled your eyes, but before you could respond, Alex closed the space between you, his warmth pressing in as he backed you against the counter. Your breath caught, the glass in your hand forgotten when his fingers brushed your waist.

“Alex-” He didn’t let you finish. His lips were on yours before you could think, his hand firm on your hip, the other tilting your face up. The kiss wasn’t rushed or hesitant, it was like he’d been holding back for too long, and now he wasn’t stopping.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breathing unsteady.

“Should’ve done that a long time ago,” he muttered, voice rough.

You barely had the chance to process his words before he was kissing you again, like now that he had started, he wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon.