His Innocent Girl (Tate Langdon Fanfic) (On Hold)

Chapter 2

 Tate had spotted Angel on the front steps and decided to make his way over to her. "Hey Angel."

"Tate, hi," Angel greeted.

"I was wondering if you wanted to come over and hang out in my room today," Tate asked.

"Sure," Angel agreed following Tate off the school property.

Tate led Angel up the sidewalk leading up to the Murder House.

Before reaching the steps, the front door swung open revealing Constance standing there. "Oh, my goodness. This is a sight for sore eyes. Tate, please tell me you managed to snag this little lady as your girlfriend. I don't want any other boy taking her away from you."

"Mom, shut up. Angel and I seriously don't have any time to deal with you right now," Tate said walking pass his mother, dragging Angel away to his bedroom. "Sorry about my mother. She is secretly hoping that we get together, so she can plan our 'perfect' wedding. She also wants beautiful grandchildren from us."

"Wow. Your mom is really hoping for a lot to happen between us, isn't she," Angel said.

"Yeah, again I'm really sorry about it if it bothers you. I can talk to her about discussing that kind of thing around you. I mean, we're not even together like that, so it's really embarrassing that my own mother would go and make suggestions like that," Tate rambled on.

Angel placed her hand over Tate's mouth, shutting him up. "Tate, it's okay. There is no need to go and talk about your mom like that. She's just excited that you have been bringing a girl home. Since school is about to let out for the summer, I feel like she might be worried about us losing touch with each other."

Tate removed Angel's hand from his lips before leaning forward, capturing Angel's lips with his own. At first Angel was shocked, before returning the kiss.

Tate gently pushed Angel back causing her to fall back on the bed. Tate climbed on top of Angel, pinning her to the bed before kissing her lips again, before pulling away breathing heavily as he stared into her eyes. "If you want, we can stop now, because if we keep going at this pace, there is no stopping."

"Who said anything about stopping? Aren't you the least bit curious to see where nature leads us," Angel asked staring deep into Tate's dark eyes, getting lost in them.

"What about what all your friends would say if they were to find out that you had slept with someone like me? The person who the school fears will most likely snap and go on some sort of killing spree of all the popular kids in the school," Tate asked.

"Who cares what everyone thinks? Tate, I have gotten to know you outside of school. You're not what every says you are. You're not crazy. You're just misunderstood," Angel said.

"You're the first to say something so kind about me. But I'm sure that once people start getting to talking to you, you will change your opinion about me," Tate said.

Angel let out an annoyed sigh while pushing Tate off of her, before getting up from the bed. "Way to kill the mood Tate. I was willing to do something for you that no other girl would even dream of doing. But you had to go and ramble on about what the other kids at school think about you. I'm trying to get you to forget about them. So, freaking what, you don't belong to any particular click in school. What the hell should that matter anyway?"

"People are always going to talk about me behind my back. I will always be known as the boy who lives in the god damn Murder House. You don't have any clue how annoying that can be," Tate said.

"You can ignore all those people and what they're saying about the murder house. But you choose not to. So, you getting annoyed with them and what they're saying is on you for allowing it to get to you. Once you stop listening to them, and ignore what they're saying, I think it's best that we spend the summer apart; that way you have time to figure out what you want and how you're going to get it," Angel said before walking out the door. Tate walked over to the window, watching as Angel walked away from the house, before screaming out in frustration.