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“I’d rather be trapped at the bottom of the ocean without an oxygen tank.” “Why suffocate down there when you could suffocate on my cock instead?”
“This changes nothing between us. You know that, right?” “That’s not true,” I replied curtly. “You can continue making me the villain in your story all you want, but you’re done being the villain in mine.”
Some part of me wondered if I was a goner at six-years-old when Mae came barreling down the street with a handful of worms asking me if I wanted to have lunch with her. But this—Mae waking up in my bed, yet again—solidified it.
