𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚛, 𝙻𝚊𝚠𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎

𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚛, 𝙻𝚊𝚠𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 ; 𝟼 ; 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚢 𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚗

𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚛, 𝙻𝚊𝚠𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 ; 𝟼 ; 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚢 𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚗

Dear, Lawrence November 22, 1887

I still can't believe it, Darling. It's been a whole day and a half of nonsense and the only moment I can wrap my head around is that I slept next to you. I slept so soundly too. Your dress was so silky and it was riding up so your smooth skin was against me. Your hair smelt of Tea and Orange peels, and the skin on your neck felt so soft. I almost, though I hate to admit such an outrageous thing, wanted to kiss you. It seems to be a pattern ever since I got back.

It makes me think I never really got over my crush on you but merely covered it with an infatuation with Presley that I knew I never wanted. Because I wanted you.

I guess me leaving for a few months made me realize how much I missed and cared for you. Some nights it's just in me though, I mean the need to go and hold you. I don't know why but I've said it before, I'm so protective over you and it's just holding you makes it feel better. So I guess me laying next to you helped both of us... we should do it more often Lawrence. In the hopes that I don't ruin what's between us...

Yours truly, Tate

𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸

I sit outside on the dirt, a book sitting in my lap while the sun shines down on me. I sit far enough away from the deck that I can watch Tate walking up our dirt driveway, what seems like a journal in his hand.

"What's that Mister Tillings?" I ask with a raised brow. He looks at me and smirks, stepping over to me and putting a hand on the top of my head, playing with my hair through his fingers.

"I write in it, Darling." He says. He drops the journal on the ground, still messing with my hair. He stares down at me, smirking. He twists my head backwards to look up at him.

"I love this angle of you, Lawrence..." he mumbles, dragging a hand along my cheek as I roll my eyes. "Nice one, Tate. Go up to my sister if you need to advance on somebody right now..."

He squats down, his mouth next to my ear after I look back down to my book. "But I'd much rather annoy you, Lawrence." He mumbles, "and I find the act of reading as almost a sort of aphrodisiac."

I smirk down at my book, "Well then I must stop reading around you Tate..."

Not like I want to though... I've always dreamt of doing things to him that I could never say without feeling guilty.

"Or you could read more and fix what you cause..." He mumbles, his arms wrapping around my waist. His dark hair tickles my neck lightly, it smells of rain and vanilla.

"Tate what mood are you in right now?" I ask with a raised brow, dropping my book and turning to him. He kisses my cheek lightly before laying down in the grass.

"I'm not sure... I'm just happy. Of course that will soon change as I have to get all goody goody and go to the ball in two days."

I gasp, "oh my the ball is soon!"

He laughs lightly, "Awe you're cute," he mumbles, grabbing lightly onto my jaw, "yes, the ball is nearing."

I sigh, "I talked to Koremen yesterday and he gave me a promotion as long as I make it to the ball.. I'm not sure if I will have much fun though."

"Avery, your father, and your mother are going so I might just stay home... get alone time with Presley. But things change all the time I just really don't wanna go unless I have affairs to attend to. And I don't suppose I will.."