The Velvet Box (unedited)

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        You and your boyfriend are passionately making out with your back pushed up against the headboard, it's uncomfortable. Your hands are tangled in his slighty faded hair, while his baby hands are stroking your bare back. he leans back creating a small gap between you and him and he looks at you with that stupid smirk as you try to catch your breath.

         He reaches behind you and you look at him with a puzzled expression. He pulls out a long velvet box and you start to get excited thinking about the contents of the box. You open it and see two Chick-fil-a coupons for a free number 1(a plain chicken sandwich).

        You scream in excitement and launch yourself into his arms. Its just what you wanted. 

“Michael Gordon Fucking Clifford you didn’t” 

        He laughs at your foolish antics and you both scramble to get your clothes on (yes, it was a naked make out session) and into his van that suspiciously looks like the mystery machine though you never questioned it.

        You get into the Van and click your seatbelt on and while you and Michael drive away into the east where the mysterious land of Chick-fil-a, you smack your head onto the dashboard.

        “Hey y/n are you okay?” Michael worriedly asks after you hit you head about twelve more times on the dashboard. Blood trickles down you forehead from where you missed and hit his airfreshner. But there is only a little so you don’t worry about it. 

“Michael…”

“Yeah? Whats wrong? Why are you bleeding?” 

“ITS SUNDAY” you screech much like a baby T-Rex

“Yeah and…” he draws on raising a singular eyebrow manually with his hand. 

        You look up; tears stream down your face, your mascara is running, and you can feel your foundation slipping away with every tear you shed. You question everything in that moment. Why are you living?Why jesus, why? Why did it have to Sunday? If newton didn't get hit by that apple would we have the understanding of gravity like we do today? You look up, your hair knotted and your eyes red with tears. You speak slowly as you pronounce each word with such discretion and despair.
 
“Chick-fil-a's closed on sundays…"

TO BE CONTINUED

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⏰ Last updated: Nov 04, 2014 ⏰

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