“Don’t do it.” Holymotherfuckingshit. I look up so fast, I’m pretty sure I give myself whiplash. The guy is on the subway! Future husband! But maybe this isn’t the best thing, because now I’m looking around and almost everyone in this car has a weapon out and they’re all staring at my man. Dammit. I should probably be worried about why so many people are trying to kill this guy, but I’m wearing my nice shirt, and I still have half a sandwich left, and I’m pretty sure my man is probably going to kill me too because once is coincidence, twice is suspicious, but meeting three times like this is
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