Willy Wayce Pecker

We shouldn't, but we did

I'm really sorry, this update might suck. Excuse the mistakes :3

**

"Oh for the love of God, can you please turn that off?"

I really don't get it, I've watched a hell lot of chick flicks and read a bunch of romance novels to orient me that 21st century women resort into crashing a party and getting their selves drunk until they bump into some random nice guy (yep, a nice guy who goes out into a lot of parties, I've figured out that it's one of the writer's errors, but I still fancy the story nonetheless) scrape their sanity, comfort them through heart flattering words then boom! They'll hook up, she'll realize she had moved on and they fall in love like it's the easiest thing next to counting the letters in the alphabet-then they live happily ever after.

Adrianna dodged my plea, completely absorbed with the pile of crumpled tissues, not even minding to wipe off the smudged double dutch ice cream on the corner of her mouth. I could make out the trail of mascara that streamed from the outline of her eyes down to her pale cheeks. A few streaks of her disheveled hair escaped from her high ponytail, framing her face.

It's nearly 2 am, and I swear I would have gone harebrained to dip a pair of sleeping pills into her drink, so I can finally doze off to sleep. But the girl have gone mad, and being labeled as her best friend, I'm unfortunately obliged to stay with her all night, scooping ice cream, stripping tissues and cursing her ex-boyfriend, while she goes on blabbing about how she wasn't good enough, how I look like I was just forcing my self to comfort her and how she's done with him, then go back to the same process. And I swear, we've gone over nearly four tubs of ice cream, twelve boxes of tissues and three albums of Taylor Swift, and it's still not working.

I swear I'm gonna skin Jake alive with a nail cutter and remind myself to pour whiskey on the flesh while I'm at it. Or maybe, I'm gonna chop him into pieces and grill his meat then feed them to my neighbor's ugly dog. Nope, scratch that, I don't think the dog even wants a piece of him. I'm just gonna tie his head on Adrianna's bumper then turn the engine and go on street racing. Wait, those are pretty much confusing, I think I'll just try those three and see what seems best. Wait til I get my hands on him.

She sniffs, the shadows underneath her eyes grow darker every minute. "Don't worry Wanda, that would be the last."

Yeah right, you said the same line few minutes ago..

"Oh Adrianna, if you'd only let me punch the living daylights out of him, I swear I'll give you the pleasure watching him beg for mercy." I said, wrapping my arms around her and feeling her lean on my shoulder.

She chuckled, her voice hoarse and raw. "I had it coming Wanda, and somehow deep within me, I know what I have to do-but I just couldn't bring myself into doing it. I'd let it pass, those lame excuses and putting up petty fights, I couldn't give up just yet you know. It hurts along the way, but it'd hurt a lot more ending it, so I kept it up blindly." She said, her voice breaking on the last word.