He hadn't expected Violet to make many friends, given her closed-off nature. And, well, he was right. She didn't make many friends, only you. You were such a sweet, innocent thing. Tate had anticipated someone much more . . . depressing. Not someone who brought over cookies every time they visited.

After a few weeks, the two of you had become acquainted. Tate grew tired of watching you from the corner of Violet's room, trying to make himself barely noticeable. But the sudden drop in temperature in the teenage girl's room made it obvious. Violet would scoff and claim she had something to do, which usually meant scolding Tate. He couldn't just creep around you. That's why he had pleaded with Violet to introduce him, praising your kindness and beauty. In the end, she was too annoyed to disagree.

That's how he ended up being invited to the sleepover. He would have joined regardless, perhaps when the two of you were asleep . . .

He grinned, holding the UNO cards you had brought a little too close to his face, trying to catch a whiff of your scent. After that, you all watched a movie while munching on snacks. Tate often got too close to you, causing Violet to smack him on the arm, trying not to make you uncomfortable.

Now, it was midnight. Violet was fast asleep in her own bed, while you lay on a mattress that her dad had set up on the floor. You drifted in and out of consciousness, completely unaware of Tate's admiring gaze. The pajamas you had brought hugged your figure in all the right places. He could feel himself almost drooling.

With a mischievous huff, he stood up from his own bed and made his way towards yours. He laid down right behind you, a playful grin spreading across his face as his hand lightly tapped your shoulder. Oh, how he loved the way you jumped at the smallest of things.