Lana’s POV
Waking up, Drake had his arm draped over my waist. I get up swinging my legs over the side of the bed, Drake falling forward with a groan as I moved. Getting up, I rummage through the drawers. I grab a pair of tights out and one of Tate’s shirts. I slip them on and pull my hair in a bun, hoping Tate was in a better mood today. Walking downstairs, I find he wasn’t even here.
Drake sleepily walking down the stairs before sitting at the table and placing his head on it, tiredly as he yawned.
“What time is it?” He asks as I flick the kettle on. I look to the clock on the wall.
“A little after 10” I tell him a little shocked myself with how late in the morning it was.
“Tate gone?” He asks, looking around and I shrug, preparing the two cups and putting the milk in while I wait
