It seemed Kate was more out of breath from the intensity between them, than from when she was set on injuring the truth out of him. His mouth was dangerously close to hers, and an inner battle was raging inside of her.

On the one hand, if she kissed him, chances are she wouldn’t be able to control herself. On the other hand, she was having a terribly difficult time trying to recall why she had to control herself. She couldn’t hurt him, her father wasn’t home, and he was less than opposed to the idea obviously.

After two full seconds of pounding hearts, heavy breathing, and consideration, Kate closed the distance between their lips and let go.

At first it was soft, hesitant, unsure. But soon they both found each other’s inner rhythms and it got heated.

They were interrupted by an “ehem”.

They both turned quickly and saw Kate’s father hanging his jacket on the coat rack by the door. He nodded in Trevor’s direction, acknowledging him.

He walked through the kitchen, and into his study.

Once the door was shut, Kate finally breath. She looked down, feeling so awkward and embarrassed she couldn’t look at Trevor. He chuckled beside her and she wondered how he had the balls to laugh after an incident like that.

“I should be going.” He stood and grabbed his back pack. “Thanks for the help.” He flashed a smile at her and went towards the door.

“Wait.” She got up and faced him, attempting bravery. “I still want answers.”

His expression turned bleak in half a second. “So do I.”

Affectionately in his arms, Kate cried her usual distraught tears. She didn’t want him to leave. “Please, Trevor. Look around. No one else is here.”

He stared ahead, unwavering. “It’s here.”

She reached up and pressed her lips to his, trying to make him forget about whoever he thought was watching them. This preoccupied him for only a moment.

“I have to leave.” He took her arms from his neck and turned. Over his shoulder he whispered, “It’s dark, Kate. I’m afraid of the dark.”

Kate was awakened from her dream by the sound of her door opening slowly. She opened her eyes and her father stood in the doorway, arms crossed, face stressed.

“That boy you were with earlier, what’s his name?”

“Trevor.”

“Hm.” He put his hand to his chin and thought. “He’s like you. Who is his father?”

I shrugged. I had never really thought about his family. Of course he would have no mother, but what of his father?

“I’m not sure.”

He nodded. “When you find out, let me know. Tomorrow night I need your help again.”

Instead of being exasperated by her father’s need of “help”, she was relieved that she would have a break from the pain of her dreams.

“Okay.”