07-25-2018, 12:47 AM
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-size: 9.4pt; line-height: 1.4;"]/ you cant convince me it’s not
What were the doing? Everyone they were close to seemed a little bit insulted by them just being together. He’d thought Amata would explode once the news reached her; there are still some days he can feel her fingers tight around his wrist as she dragged him off to scold him, to demand the truth. It’s just done rumor, right? No, it hadn’t been. His heart had still been soaring high from Butch’s mouth at the time, like nothing could go wrong. He’d told her the truth, and then his dad later on. And after the standard barrage of questions (are you sexually active? are you being safe? you don’t feel pressured into anything, do you?), even Dad, ever-supportive and loving, has tried guiding him in another direction. Everyone thought the same way Butch did. He was going places, he had a future. The truth is, he can’t think of settling down like that, with some job where his only concern is a paycheck. When his life turned into some mapped-out route to work and home, when the most exciting thing in his life is laying down afterwork — that’s not right. And he’s not going to give it a try, he’s not going to settle.
And Butch, that’s not settling. Even as the guy that kissed people to say thank you and good luck, he hasn’t quite met someone who takes his breath away like that. It’s not that he doesn’t glow, he just hasn’t seen himself in the dark, when it’s just the moonlight on his face. Makes everything shine like he’s part of the scenery. He should’ve been a movie star.
He’s just not giving himself enough credit here. It’s like he's always been equal parts infuriating and attractive, especially when he sits like that, like he’s in control of the goddamn room. Now it’s probably swayed to three-fourths attractive with the way he grins. It makes his breath hitch, his heart flutter, even when he’s the one doing the touching, shifting until his thumbs slip underneath the hem of his shirt and back down as Butch leans in. People are probably staring, but at least here the most you’re insane looks they get are the ones coming from people disgusted by public displays of affection. Not like he could care even if his dad was standing there with that disapproving frown. When they’re like this, they might as well own the place. ”Well now I’m sorta curious,” he snorts gracelessly, mouth curved to a small smile. That train of thought isn’t enough to distract him from nearly pitching forward on command, admittedly almost overeager.
This had started with the intention of pulling him out with the other dancers, and instead the heavy tension pooling in his stomach sorta just wants him to skip the dancing and head home, maybe take the scenic route and take the time to share. ”That’s a terrible line, you know.” Val kisses him anyway, eyes closing even if he doesn’t mean for it to last more than a second. It doesn’t work out like that, it never does with Butch. His mouth tastes like alcohol in a sweet kind of way, and his hair is soft when he lifts one hand to brush against his face to the back of his head. It’s a slightly stiff with whatever products he uses, though. It’s nice. You’re pretty when you blush.” The hand still on Butch’s hip shifts to tug at one of his belt loops, leaning away with a grin of his own.
”C’mon, you’ve sat around long enough.”
What were the doing? Everyone they were close to seemed a little bit insulted by them just being together. He’d thought Amata would explode once the news reached her; there are still some days he can feel her fingers tight around his wrist as she dragged him off to scold him, to demand the truth. It’s just done rumor, right? No, it hadn’t been. His heart had still been soaring high from Butch’s mouth at the time, like nothing could go wrong. He’d told her the truth, and then his dad later on. And after the standard barrage of questions (are you sexually active? are you being safe? you don’t feel pressured into anything, do you?), even Dad, ever-supportive and loving, has tried guiding him in another direction. Everyone thought the same way Butch did. He was going places, he had a future. The truth is, he can’t think of settling down like that, with some job where his only concern is a paycheck. When his life turned into some mapped-out route to work and home, when the most exciting thing in his life is laying down afterwork — that’s not right. And he’s not going to give it a try, he’s not going to settle.
And Butch, that’s not settling. Even as the guy that kissed people to say thank you and good luck, he hasn’t quite met someone who takes his breath away like that. It’s not that he doesn’t glow, he just hasn’t seen himself in the dark, when it’s just the moonlight on his face. Makes everything shine like he’s part of the scenery. He should’ve been a movie star.
He’s just not giving himself enough credit here. It’s like he's always been equal parts infuriating and attractive, especially when he sits like that, like he’s in control of the goddamn room. Now it’s probably swayed to three-fourths attractive with the way he grins. It makes his breath hitch, his heart flutter, even when he’s the one doing the touching, shifting until his thumbs slip underneath the hem of his shirt and back down as Butch leans in. People are probably staring, but at least here the most you’re insane looks they get are the ones coming from people disgusted by public displays of affection. Not like he could care even if his dad was standing there with that disapproving frown. When they’re like this, they might as well own the place. ”Well now I’m sorta curious,” he snorts gracelessly, mouth curved to a small smile. That train of thought isn’t enough to distract him from nearly pitching forward on command, admittedly almost overeager.
This had started with the intention of pulling him out with the other dancers, and instead the heavy tension pooling in his stomach sorta just wants him to skip the dancing and head home, maybe take the scenic route and take the time to share. ”That’s a terrible line, you know.” Val kisses him anyway, eyes closing even if he doesn’t mean for it to last more than a second. It doesn’t work out like that, it never does with Butch. His mouth tastes like alcohol in a sweet kind of way, and his hair is soft when he lifts one hand to brush against his face to the back of his head. It’s a slightly stiff with whatever products he uses, though. It’s nice. You’re pretty when you blush.” The hand still on Butch’s hip shifts to tug at one of his belt loops, leaning away with a grin of his own.
”C’mon, you’ve sat around long enough.”
[align=center][div style="font-size:15.7pt;line-height:.9;color:#000;font-family:impact;padding:8px;letter-spacing:.7px"]I TOLD MY FRIENDS THAT WE WOULD NEVER PART[div style="font-size:7pt;line-height:1.2;color:#000;font-family:arial;margin-top:2px;margin-bottom:5px;letter-spacing:0px;margin-left:0px;text-align:center;letter-spacing:.0px"]｢ THEY OFTEN SAID THAT YOU WOULD BREAK MY HEART | PINTEREST. INFO. PLAYLIST. ｣