that joke isn't funny anymore

don't stand so close to me

he looked at me "what did you say?" he asked.
i turned bright red "uh, nothing, nothing. i said nothing." i hastily spoke, trying to get off the topic.
he raised an eyebrow at me and sighed "if you say so."

after the long train ride, we arrived in dreary london. i groaned as i looked around the streets.
"what a beautiful place." i said, the sarcasm oozing from my voice.
steven laughed and asked "where's your house then?"
"it's on a road, come on i'll show you, mr morrissey." i said with a giggle.
he rolled his eyes and laughed and followed after me.

once we'd arrived at my house, i knocked on the door quite loudly. after about 20 seconds, the door swung open to reveal my mother. her brow furrowed slightly, probably because i had a boy standing next to me.
"evelyn! and who's this?" she questioned, looking at steven.
"mum, this is steven morrissey. he's in a band, called the smiths. they were on top of the pops last week if you remember?" i said.
"oh yes! you were the one with the flowers, am i correct?" she asked steven.
"yes, that was me." steven said with a slight smile as he looked at his shoes.
"well then. you two better come inside then. steven, do you like tea by any chance?"
"y-" steven started.
my mother cut him off "oh what kind of question is that!? everybody loves tea!" she said, sauntering over to the kitchen.
i looked at steven and smiled encouragingly.
"it'll be okay, trust me." i said, taking his hand and leading him into the living room where my dad was sitting on the sofa, reading the local newspaper.
"dad? this is steven, steven morrissey." i said.
my father looked up and stared at steven quite coldly.
"it..it's nice to meet you sir." steven said, holding out his hand for my father to shake.
my father stared at his hand like it was a disease and turned to look at me. steven withdrew his hand and went back to staring at his shoes.
"so, evelyn. how was the university course?" my father asked.
"the university course? oh right, it was alright."
my father raised an eyebrow and turned to face steven once again.
"and how did you meet my daughter, steven?" my father asked through gritted teeth.
"uh, i met her at the train station. we have a lot in common, i'm very fond of her." he said, causing me to smile widely.
"alright then." my father said, reaching out his hand for steven to shake. steven looked at this with sheer surprise, but shaked my fathers hand, nonetheless.

my mother walked in with four mugs of tea on a tray and handed them to us. we all thanked her and sat down on the massive sofa. my mother switched on the tv and on came the news. we were greeted with the hideous face of margaret thatcher who was expressing her unnecessary beliefs about something. steven sighed angrily at this, i knew of how much he hated thatcher. my father looked at him.
"not a fan of thatcher then? neither am i." he said, with a laugh.
steven laughed at this. "she's ruining this country." he said.
"can we not discuss politics please?" i pleaded and stood up from the sofa.
"where are you going dear?" my mother asked.
"to my room. come on steven." i said, grabbing his hand and practically dragging him out of the room and up the stairs and into my room.
i sat down on my bed and steven meandered over to my records. he flicked through them, criticising my taste in albums.
"the police? really?" he questioned in disgust.
"what? sting is extremely attractive, i'll have you know." i argued.
"he's not as attractive as me though, is he?" steven said with a smirk.
"steven patrick morrissey, you pretentious twat, come here right now." i demanded.
he wandered over to me with a dopey smile. i laughed at this and kissed him.
"no one's more beautiful than you, steven patrick morrissey." i said, a grin tugging at my lips.
"is that so?" he questioned.