*ﾟ‘ﾟ･ fire & ash } ❝ ⇁ Tate! ❞ A soft groan escaped from the youth’s lips upon recognising his mother’s shrill voice; apparently ignoring the door wasn’t working any more, she’d even beckon him from the fucking street. Tate lay back on the bed, pale hands covering his ears - just until Constance gave up and wandered home to the very next house on the street. He reveled in the silence until a sharp, much closer whisper uttered his name.
What felt like cold breath on the boy’s ear sent shivers down Tate’s spine; he immediately lunged forward, propping himself up on the bed with his palms - one of the ghosts wanted his attention. Tate slid off the bed and wandered down to the basement, where mischief from the ghosts was most commonly made. Blond curls slightly obscured Tate’s vision as he tilted his head to peer around the corner ⇁ he raised his eyebrows slightly in curiosity, nobody was in the room; aside from some pretty little redhead bound to a chair at the other end of the basement.
