The way you look tonight|| lams||

lovestruck and bandaged

Notes: tw self harm ugh I hate this chapter but we. Hit. 100. Reads. Yeet. date and kissy kissy chapter ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Chapter 15

Alex POV

We got going around 5:30, I didn't know where we were going quite yet, but I could tell it was fancy by the way he blushed the whole car ride there. I arrived to see a fancy looking restaurant next to a mall. It was a big, shiny building with great big pillars, and a nice red velvet carpet leading up to one of those spinning doors. I beamed like a little kid and grabbed his hand, beginning to walk up to the large, breathtaking building in front of us.
"Beautiful," he sighed.
"The restaurant? Oh, y-"
"Not that, you," he kisses me on my forehead and grips my hand harder as we walked through the spinning door.
Note: before proof-reading 'hand' said 'head.' Ah, he grips my head.
"Reservation for John," he says to the server.
"Yup, come with me," replies the waitress as she led us to a burgundy booth. We sat down and grabbed our menus, holding each other's hands from across the table. After we finished ordering, a woman, around 50-60, noticed me giving John a peck on the cheek and walked over to the two of us.
"You gay people are SCUM," she says, sending her nose high in the air with disgust.
"At least I can keep a boyfriend," John replied, smiling.
"Ugh! Gay fucks," she spat.
"Is that an invitation?" John grinned back.
"The bible says-"
"The bible also says that deformed people can't approach god, but yet here you are," I cut her off, leaving her mouth gaping open with frustration at me and my beautiful BOYFRIEND'S wit.
"Good one babe," he squeezed my still intertwined hand.
"You two make me sick," she fired back.
"Then don't deepthroat so hard. It's 2019 bitch, get over it," I say, an angry, fiery red flushing my face. Just then, a woman, the manager I suppose, saunters over to the woman and us, eyebrows furrowed angrily.
"Excuse me, is this situation bothering you?" she asked, eyebrows even more annoyed and angry now.
"Why, yes, these two men feel the need to force their homosexuality onto ev-"
"Not you, ma'am, you're the one in the wrong," she said, smoke coming out of her ears.
"Well why should I have to be subjected to their 'lifestyle?!'" she pouted.
"If you expect me to escort people out for their quote-on-quote 'lifestyle,' yours would be the first to go. In other words, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave, ma'am. Now," the manager growled.
"And who do you think you are?" the lady practically yelled, turning the heads of the observers in the restaurant.
"Maria Reynolds, raging lesbian," she shook her hand tightly as the woman broke it off quickly in disgust, staring with an angry frown at the three homosexuals in front of her.
"I'm never coming here again," she huffed.
"Good riddance," the manager, Maria, smiled and waved the woman out the shiny spinning door.
"Sorry about that, y'all. Name's Maria," she turned to us. "And you are?"
"Alexander Hamilton," I say.
"John Laurens," John smiles at me, then at Maria.
"Sorry for the inconvenience. Your meals are on the house," she smiled kindly and waved happily as she began to walk to the kitchen.
"Maria," John called.
"Yeah?" she responded.
"We've got a friend, Peggy, big lesbian, want her number?" he asked, nearly chuckling.
"Absolutely! Be right there!" she called and skrted (yes, skrted, don't judge) back to the kitchen. I leaned over and kissed John softly on the lips.
"But the bible, baby," he mocked and bit my lip lightly.
"Oh, yeah, true," I leaned back in my seat, my words so strong with sarcasm that you could practically feel it.
"You're incredible," John smiles sweetly and rests his head on his hand and gazes into my eyes.
"John, that's too gay for the public," I mock the woman.
"I just can't seem to keep my eyes off your fine self," he sighs and holds my hand when Maria comes out with our food.
"Here you gays go," Maria sat the platters down.
"Thanks, here's Peggy's number," I say, holding out Peggy's business card. Maria giggled.

Hi, I'm Peggy
Raging lesbian, aged 20

DON'T TRUST THOMAS JEFFERSON
TO GIVE YOU THIS CARD

"Who's Thomas Jefferson?" she laughed.
"HE'S A LYING ANNOYING ASS BAST-"
"You don't wanna know," John interrupted my rage strike.
"Great," she beams sarcastically and walks back into the kitchen. I look to John dreamily to see him sucking up some spaghetti. I grab other end of the noodle sexily, lady and the tramp style.
"Babygirl..." John cooed.
"Stop with your straight nicknames, I'm tryna be romantic," I complain.
"Trust me, it's workin', babygirl," he smirked and winked, causing me to choke on the noodle.
"Oh, babygirl, I make you choke up?" he grinned.
"No, you bastard, I choked on a noodle," I spat, suppressing a laugh, sure that I was blushing a bright red.
"That doesn't sound any better!" John laughed. Damn, his laugh was so adorable. I fall in love with him every time I see his smile. Hear his laugh.  We decided to head out and stroll to the mall. I love him so much, I don't deserve him. I say sorry and head to the bathroom, grabbing the blade from inside my phone case. I count my cuts.
1- My past
2- I don't deserve John
3- I'm bi
4- John's dad
I hear a door burst open. My wrist is nearly soaked in deep red blood.
"Alexander?" I hear. It's John. My eyes flood with tears and I blink them out.
"Y-yes?" I whisper.
"What are you doing?" he asks desperately, seeming to know exactly what I was doing. I heard sniffling against the stall door.
"Nothing."
"Alex, shut your beautiful mouth. I know what your doing. How many?" he pleaded.
"...four," I admit and open the door to see a teary eyed John Laurens.
"What the fuck, Alex? Why do you do this to yourself?" he blinked a tear down his freckled face. I dropped the blade and sobbed into his shoulder as I hugged him.
"I'm sorry," I cry.
"It's okay. Let's clean you up," he sighs. "What did you count your cuts for this time?"
"My past, you, I'm bi, your dad," I sigh as he helps me clean the cuts and puts the band-aids he keeps in his pockets.
"Why me?" he asks with strain in his soft voice.
"I'm not enough, I don't deserve you," I tear up again.
"Baby, no! You're the best person I've ever met and I don't deserve you," he cried. All the sudden, someone burst through the door. We skidded into a stall and I held the tall boy up by his collar against the wall as he locked the door. I got on my toes and kissed him before we darted out the door, lovestruck and only half bandaged.
"I love you," I say, running my hand through his big brown curls.