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Do you like tragic things? Are you drawn to the ghosts in my eyes?
“You’re too young to be so jaded.” “Am I?”
“So, you hate peanut butter, house parties, and love. What do you like?” “I like you.”
“You don’t know me well enough to like me.” “Yeah.” I stared at him, held his gaze. “Maybe that’s why I do.”
Thou is royally fucked.
Smirking, I flicked a french fry across the table and it bopped her on the nose. “Rude!” She broke out into giggles and tossed a handful at me. “You know I’m not above public food fights.” “Oh, I know. Your seventh birthday party still finds me in my nightmares.” “Cake. Everywhere.” “So much.”
Wrong, right, black, white, lust, love.
