Oh My God (SebaCiel)

Unfuxkingbelievable.

"Were you even listening?"

"Um."

"Wow. I'd be hurt if I still had a blood-pumping muscle in my chest."

"You mean your heart?"

"No, my anus."

"Asshole."

"Yeah, it's tight, and what about it?"

I've been such an absolute bitch since my breakup with Sebastian. Oops. I mean the incident between Sebastian and I. The one where he pretended to have never heard of my existence before? Yeah, that one. Fucking dipshit. Ugly ass monkey. Motherfuc-

"Babe?"

"What."

"Oh, no, it's n-nothing. It's just that um... you're kind of squeezing the Jesus out of that bag of Doritos and you know I'm not exactly a whore for nacho cheese flavored crumbs."

"Alois. If you try to grab this bag out of my hand one more time, I'm going to grab this fist and shove it so deep down your throat that-"

*diNg dOnG*

"..."

"..."

"Okay, don't say a single word or I swear to g-"

"A single word."

"Son of a-"

*diNg dOnG*

Who could that possibly be? Alois and I aren't exactly family friendly people. We scream bloody murder over the deaths of our favorite character while the rest of the world is still trying to get in that last thirty minutes of sleep before going to hell. But it's still only five in the afternoon, what could someone want so early in the day?

The only friends we do have most definitely don't ring the doorbell, they come in through the back door like normal human beings.

Shit. Whoever it is better have a gigantic life-sized Eren blow-up doll and five boxes of chocolate if they ever want to walk again.

I run downstairs, listening to Alois move at a snail's pace to get off the bed, and grab my Limited Edition Danganronpa slippers sitting at the bottom on the stair case and fumble with my toes till they're just barely in. I pass by the mirror and almost do a double take when I grasp the reality of the situation.

I'm heartbroken. I gave my little, dried up like a raisin, heart to a beautiful boy and he just tossed it into the nearest garbage can.

My hair is greasy and laying flat against my scalp, parted in the middle from the billion times I dragged my hands up it. The bags under my eyes can send Chanel and Louis Vuitton a run for their money. My shirt is covered in sweat stains, mustard stains, oil stains, not to mention the random stripe of ink across the middle. Alois lent me a pair of Hello Kitty pajama pants that practically scream to let them burn in a tub of gay acid.

Okay, sure, I've had better days, but who's gonna see me anyways? The mailman? Jesus? They've seen worse, they'll live.

I swing the front door open and the sound of the wood creaming fades into the background as I stare at into the eyes of our visitor.

        His eyes.

That tub of gay acid sounds pretty inviting right about now.