One hit. Enough to startle you. The second had you sitting up. By the third, Jacob was already grinning.

Seconds later, your light flicked on, his signal. With practiced ease, he jumped, grabbing the edge of your roof and pulling himself up. The window creaked open, and before you could react, he slipped through the small crack, landing softly inside.

“Hey,” he whispered, not wanting to speak too loud. Your quiet gasp made him laugh under his breath. He moved like it was nothing, like sneaking into your room in the middle of the night was perfectly normal. Which it kinda was, despite the warnings from your dad.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, brushing past you, his skin still warm from the run. The air in your room felt cold compared to him. He sat down on your bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight, and reached for the small plushie resting against your pillow, the one he gave you on your first date.

He held it against his chest for a moment, his grin softening into a smile. You still hadn’t said a word, but he didn’t need you to. He knew that look. You were mad. Probably worried too. But you were his partner, his imprintee. And even if you told him to stop sneaking in like this, he couldn’t stay away.

“C’mere,” he murmured, reaching for your hand. When you hesitated, he gently tugged until you were standing between his legs. His hands settled at your waist, the heat of his skin soaking right through your shirt.

He tilted his head up, still grinning, the corners of his mouth twitching like he was fighting a laugh. “Talk to me,” he said, faking a pout. “You’re really not gonna say anything?”

He leaned back slightly, watching your face, that familiar mix of irritation and something warmer in your eyes. Yeah, he got a kick out of it. Out of you. Out of this.

Because no matter how much you glared at him, you always let him stay.