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three-way, armin and connie. xvi. high for this.
☆ ˚ ༘⋆ you were sitting comfortably in the passenger seat of connie's car, the warmth from the heater hot against your skin.
you're never smoking again. probably. you hold a certain control, but your mind is still a fuzz, unfortunately. connie is definitely a natural—wait, you really shouldn't be in the car with him while he's smoking, but you're too focused on trying to find out what hairstyle you're doing next to care. those trending bohemian twists are pretty cute right now, but distressed locs sound tempting too.
the number that texted you earlier had forwarded you a video, but you instinctively just deleted the contact—but now you're curious to know what was inside. it's too late now, but you're hoping they'll send it again after realizing you didn't respond. maybe it's just spam, or something?
when the blunt is nothing but a short stump of wrapping paper, connie dishes it out in the ashtray. he's driving the car pretty slow—like he's just beneath the speed limit. you notice, and decide to look up from your phone. "why are you driving so slow?" you ask him, turning your phone off, and pocketing it.
connie shrugs, not even looking at you. "why are you so pretty?"
you smile slightly at that, just a tad bit amused at his boldness. "wanna see my ma? you like milfs?"
you're both high as hell. it's unsafe to be in this car right now, but connie doesn't seem to mind as he swings into a local checkers. "i've dated a few, don't ask how or why," he replies, pulling over near the intercom so that your order could be taken. you don't really eat from checkers, but their funnel cake fries are fire as hell.
"you not scared?" you question, as connie looks through his wallet for his card. "you know it's illegal to drive under the influence, right?"
connie scoffs, like he can't believe what you just said. "it's only illegal to drive drunk, not high. look, you wanna go home, or what? culo aterrador. [scary ass.]" him saying that was so absurd, that even your intoxicated mind took a break to pause, and process what he said. for a moment, you almost believed him.
