Chapter 12:

She couldn't sleep. It was night like these when she lay wide-awake, tossing and turning, that her thoughts turned to Tate. They normally succumbed to him in some way. Whether it was due to a comment he had said once before that stuck in her mind, or a song he had played out loud in the attic that echoed down to her room, she always thought of him eventually.

He was like a drug; one of those addictive and consuming ones. The kind that you craved if you went too long without. Something you just couldn't resist. She had tried to withstand from him, but as everyone could see, she just couldn't stay away or forget the feelings she had for him. And of course, like a drug, once she'd had a good taste of him, she couldn't get him out of her mind. Which was why on this moonlit Wednesday evening, she laid awake, screwing up her fists in aggravation.

She couldn't stop thinking about the night before. The scrabble game had gotten out of hand, and the worst part of it was that she enjoyed it.

Violet turned her head into her pillow and smothered her face in the fabric. She wanted to scream from the mixture of emotions she felt. Why couldn't she just forget him? Forget the way his fingers had felt upon her body. The feel of his lips brushing her neck. The warmth of his breath on her skin. She shivered at the memory and turned back over again to try and slow her breathing. Just the mere thought of him was driving her up the wall.

When sunlight hit her bedroom window very early the next morning, she gave up on the idea of sleeping and pulled back her covers, which were half falling onto the floor in a disregarded fashion. She stretched and quickly changed into proper clothes before beginning to brush her hair.

When she turned to exit the room she noticed a small piece of paper folded in half lying beside the door. She frowned and retrieved the note, her fingers itching with curiosity to open it. It read -

Out of all the words I have trouble saying,

There are three that mean the most,

They make my heart sing when I think of them and what it would mean to tell you

But those are the ones I have trouble saying.

When your eyes lock with mine, I have no worries to contain

You make me feel alive again and I don't want that feeling to ever drift away

There is no better way to express how I feel for you,

So I will write it plainly on this note so you can see

Even though this paper is old and thin

I hope it doesn't alter the meaning of my words

I love you

Tate had written her a poem? He wasn't a poet, that was for sure, but the thought of him sitting up and specifically crafting a poem together made her smile. Her heart fluttered in adoration, her eyes skimming over his words to hang onto their meaning. The paper was brown, as if it had been worn away over time, and the smell of it gave her a sentimental feeling. She smiled as she re-read the last sentence. Those three words he had never properly expressed to her before. He had said them, but never with as much meaning behind them. The only thing she could have asked for was for him to be able to speak them meaningfully to her face.

At the bottom of the page, scrawled in his handwriting was a little message.

I'm sorry if what I done yesterday overwhelmed you, but I can't hold back any longer. Neither do I want to. I hope you realise how I really feel.

I'll be waiting.

So there were parts of him that were romantic after all. Not just the lust filled creature she had to encounter over the past week. But what did he mean when he said, 'I'll be waiting'? It sounded a bit threatening in her opinion, but she shrugged it off, not wanting to loose the romantic atmosphere he had set.

Violet bit her lip as she tried to stop the big grin that was plastered on her face. The feeling she got from the letter made her feel so warm and alive again.

Placing the brown paper on the table beside her bed, she opened the door to go and find him.

'Tate?' She shouted down the hallway, hearing her voice echo throughout the quiet house.

There was no reply.

Instead, when she looked down, she saw a red love heart made from paper. She picked it up, curious again.

Trails of red paper hearts were littered all over the hallway landing, leading down to the stairs. She smiled, a small giggle escaping her in delight. Could he really be this sweet? Was this how he apologized for last night?

She attentively followed the paper hearts down the stairs, out of the front door.

The trail led her onto the grass, precisely right in the middle where the last paper heart was placed. She bent down to pick up the last one. Her name was written on this one.

When she stood back up, a hand clamped gently over her eyes. A voice at her ear tenderly whispered, 'Come with me...'

...

Sorry if the ending is a bit abrupt, but I felt like you all needed an update. I'm so sorry about the delay.

I hope you have all had a wonderful Christmas.

The next chapter will be up some time after the new year:)