Wanna go away with me baby?

“I can’t come with you to Vegas,” she said, matter of fact.

“Baby, why? Please.” He reached out for her hand, eyes somber, yet like his usual self, glimmering and hopeful.

“Because every time I go, I make out with someone. If I’m there I’ll want to make out with someone. You really don’t know me, I’ll ditch you when we’re there.” She was being so honest with him, about her past and her habits, it was odd for her.

“You’ve made out with random people?” As if that was the problem, he couldn’t care less who she had made out with before. She was with him now. But the problem was she didn’t think she was with him now. That she was his, like he was hers.

“Haven’t you ever?”

“Ya, obviously. But baby, I’ll be there, make out with me.” He reached and squeezed her hands.

“I don’t know, you don’t know me. And I don’t know your friends. I don’t know.”

Well he knew her, more than she thought. And they went to Vegas for the weekend, and she only made out with him. She only wanted to make out with him. And ofcourse his friends loved her. And theirs was the most healthy relationship ever.

Miss Mess

xoxo

Advertisements

About iheartmess

A Middle Eastern Londoner 20-something living the 'western' life in between London and home.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s