it was late, the sky outside dark and quiet.

we were standing by the front door. his sweater engulfed me, my purse already in my hand — all the signs that i was leaving. but i hadn’t.

“i should go,” i said, but i didn’t sound too convincing.

gibsie stood too close, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“i know,” he said, smirking.

i turned toward the door, but his hand shot out, grabbing my sleeve.

“i’m serious,” i said, but my smile was already giving me away.

“or…” his grin widened.

“or?”

“you could stay.”

“h/n.”

“what’s really waiting for you out there? sleep?” he scoffed. “overrated.”

i gave him a look. “i can’t stay.”

“hmm.” he tugged me closer until our shoulders bumped.

“okay, seriously, i have to go.”

i laughed as he clung to my arm.

“five more seconds,” he begged, already pulling me into another hug.

“gibsie—”

“three… two… one…” he sighed. “okay, now five more.”

“gerard gibson.”

“ten more?”

i rolled my eyes. “you can’t just keep adding seconds.”

“yes, i can. it’s called inflation.”

“you’re ridiculous.” i laughed, shoving at his shoulder.

he grinned, because he knew i wasn't going to leave.