“I do,” I say, looking into his eyes.
you have to tell him sometime. you cant keep this secret any longer, i think to myself as we kiss and cameras flash
i have to tell him, its now or never. i lean away, still in his arms,
“I like pineapple on my pizza”
the cameras stop flashing. smiles disappear and his arms drop from around my waist. a dog whines somewhere in the distance. He looks in my eyes with a horror i never imagined id ever see
what have i done
a few days ago bf told me that a couple years ago when he played counterstrike he would respond to dudes getting angry and aggressive and hostile by saying “a kissaroo from me to you” in a slightly goofy friendly voice sort of like the voice you’d associate with a dog muppet. he said they would absolutely lose their shit every time, insisting things like “i dont want a kissaroo from you! only tall blonde girls!”. they always said kissaroo. i cant stop thinking about this
i need to hear this
is it your own skin though? As in you grew it, on your own body, from birth?
This skin was grown yes. On a human body. That is mine. I’m not a robot
Ok ok I’ll believe you… If you first tell me what this says:
I don’t need to prove myself to you how dare you, I love breathing oxygen