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"Okay, what's your idea?" Heather asked.

"Get your jacket, Attie! Your jacket!" Nate whispered.

Atticus grinned at Heather, "It's a surprise!" he replied playfully, grabbing his jacket. Nate gave a fist pump as he watched them.

Heather nodded, looping her hand through Atticus's arm and walking out the door with him.

Nate grinned widely after they left, and the boy snuck down the stairs.

Atticus walked along with her happily, looking when they came across an ally way."C'mon, this way." he grinned tugging Heather down the ally, Until they came to an old green house, that was still in fairly good condition. He smirked and led her inside, inside it was literally pitch black darkness. "Stay here for a second." he said softly. Unhooking his arm from hers and moving through the darkness.

"Atticus?" Heather called worridly, not being able to see and scared that he'd left.

Atticus didn't reply, he was still there and wanted to reply, but at the moment he was focused on finding the lightswitch.

Heather licked her lips, trying to force her eyes to adjust to the darkness, "You better be hiding a pony or something," She joked. Heather searched blindly for something to guid her, until her hands found a smooth counter top. She splayed her hands across the cool table and sighed in relief, now she wouldn't bump into anything.

((...Tommy...? ))

(hmm... Not yet... Attie and heather should have a sweet moment first XD)

Suddenly the room lit up, dozens of clear Christmas lights lit up the air, making it almost look like fireflies filled the room. Atticus grinned at the dazzling sight and came up behind Heather, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulled her back against him, and resting his chin on her shoulder. "Pretty cool, huh?" he asked playfully.

"Oh my..." Heather said, breathless at the scene stretch before her, "It's beautiful!" She excliamed, pressing her palm over her chest to feel her wildly thumping heart.

Atticus smiled, "Not as beautiful as you." he said, kissing her neck.

Heather blushed furiosuly and felt her ears heat up at his words. She giggled once, not being able to see him, but feeling his kiss on her neck.

Atticus smiled softly, he was about to speak, but an all too familiar voice sounded behind them.

"My my, isn't this sweet!" Atticus whirled around, and clenched his fists at the sight of Tommy. Atticus took Heather's hand, and pulled her close to him.

Heather looked at Tommy, her world crashing down. She wavered and sniffed, afraid but determined to not show it.

"Leave us alone." She hissed, no longer afraid of the man, but rather just angry with him.

"Oh! Looks like Ghost has made my little Darlin' a fighter!" Tommy sneered, starting to walk around them. Attie kept his eyes locked on Tommy.

"Don't call her that! You don't own her!" Atticus snarled squeezing Heathers hand harder than he meant to. Once he realized he instantly loosened his grip.

"Haha! But don't I! I can get her to do whatever I want!" he said with dark menace. "She's no better than a dog, a little wh**e if you ask me!"

"Shut up you b*statd!! You made her do that, she had no choice!!" Atticus growled. Tommy just smirked and looked at heather, a smirk on his face, and a cruel glint in his eyes.

Heather was tempted to go back to her old ways and retreat. She was tempted to whimper, curl up in a ball, and hide, her tail tucked between her legs. But she couldn’t show how afraid she was of that man. She couldn’t let him win. Heather had never been one for sports, therefore she was never competitive. She didn’t posses a desire to win and was never ambitious for anything. But she was now. Somewhere, unwritten in her mind, something clicked. She wanted to win, wanted it so bad. She didn’t want to roll over for this man, like she had months ago. She didn’t want to beg mercy and hope for the best. She was Heather Zamieroski not Tommy’s little ‘Darlin’ and she belonged to no one but Atticus, as he belonged to her.

Tommy’s words only enraged the girl, her free hand clenched into a fist when their eyes met, and she bit back the urge to spit at him.

“And you know what you are? A sad little man who can’t score girls because he’s oh-so unpleasant. I feel sorry for you, you miserable scum. At least I have someone who loves me, while you’re alone in life. And you’ll die alone, oh what a shame.” Heather remarked, her voice like nails on a chalk board and cold like dry ice.