He’s not the best person, he knows that, but his mother isn’t either. She’s cruel and mean, she makes him look pathetic and weak.

he doesn’t like feeling weak, at least not when it’s not you he’s crying for. But—that’s not the topic right now.

Tate is upset, his hands gripping at the fabric of his—your…pillows and sheets, patiently waiting.

”tate?”

He practically jumped up at your voice, wiping away the tears that glossed his divine face.

“yeah—hi..”

It’s taking everything to not just cry into your arms, curl up against you and sob himself to a good rest.

Hopefully you get the hint.