“And that’s the end of the my story, same nightmare for the fifth day in a row, it’s driving me nuts, I have to sleep.” You whined with a pout, on the phone with Mark. You had called him when you woke up in the middle of the night, scared less, by your recurring nightmare.

He answered quickly, not even sounding tired, it made you worried that he wasn’t sleeping much either. But he wouldn’t let you push the matter further. 

“Hmm..” He said softly, “Wanna sleep at my place?” He offered. You froze up, thankful he couldn’t see you. You had been friends for years, an unspoken truce about toeing the line of your friendship but never breaking it.

“______, you don’t have to if you’re scared. But wouldn’t it be better for you to be scared not home alone?” Mark said casually. It was hard to keep the excitement out of his tone, he had always wanted to have sleepover. He didn’t want to keep secrets from you but he had to with no opportunities to explain himself but now was the perfect time. 

You sighed, he had a point. Even if you weren’t sure what this meant, it would be better for you to sleep his place. At least he would be there. “Okay, I’ll pack some things and be there in about 10 minutes.” You said, grabbing your backpack and throwing some clothes, face wash and other things in there.

“I can stay on the phone with you.” He replied cheerfully. You set him on speaker and he talked about random things while you packed. He said he had stayed late to finish the homework assignment from your history teacher.

Your school was rather interesting, as you had a bunch of friends with rare, unique talents and no other school would accept them. Your teachers still taught the same subjects as the normal kids, but with intriguing stories of other talented people throughout history.

“I’m leaving my house now.” You said, picking up your phone and taking it off speaker. You put it to your ear and walked over to his house. Your street was well-lit for 2AM, with the iridescent street lights littering both sides.

Mark’s house was straight down the street from yours, just about four houses down. You turned up to his front porch and knocked. You could already hear him on the other side, still on the phone with you.

The door swung open and you shouted at him as he just smiled at you, “Mark! Put a shirt on!”

He grinned, “Nope, sorry, _______. My house, my rules.” He said cheekily. He pulled you forward, towards him hanging up his phone and you protested. It was difficult with his skin touching you but you realized that he was hotter than you were, temperature wise.

You groaned, “Never mind. I know why you don’t have a shirt on.” You rolled your eyes at him. Y