Fandom Imagines

Tate Langdon

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The silent treatment was one thing Tate hated the most. You were damn good at it, too. Your death had just made it easier, allowing you to disappear from his sight just as easily as he could from yours. You used your secret weapon every time you two fought. Neither of you really remembered what exactly you were fighting about in the first place, but you were giving him the silent treatment nonetheless, figuring you were probably right.
"(Y/N)!" Tate whined, appearing to you while you sat in the kitchen with Moira.
You stirred your tea, humming to yourself.
"Please!" He said, touching your arm.
"Oh, Tate, hi."
Moira smiled to herself as she stood and went to do dishes.
"(Y/N), I was being an idiot, okay?"
"You're an idiot? I thought you were dead!," you replied in mock-surprise.
Tate clenched his jaw, leaning his elbows on the island. "C'mon, babe."
You crossed your arms.
"What?"
"Tate."
"Oh! Apologizing, right. I forgot. I'm sorry."
You smiled and kissed his cheek. "Okay."
"So you'll acknowledge me now?"
You nodded. "No more silent treatment."
"No more silent treatment."
Tate's lips curved into a smile as he extended his pinky. "Pinky promise?"
You curled your pinky around his. "Pinky promise."