chapter 6

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tw : smut, praise, degradation, choking.

tw : smut, praise, degradation, choking

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I plop down onto my bed and bite my lip, thinking of her. I thought she was occupying my thoughts like crazy before— but now that I've kissed her? She's like a song stuck in my head.
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I tied the laces of my dress shoes— no converse today. Rossi insisted we all dress fancy. I got up from the foot of my bed and stood in front of the mirror.

For the first time in, well ever, I felt confident. I wore a white button-up with the first two buttons undone. I had the sleeves rolled up and my watch laid on my wrist. I had on black dress pants with a grey belt and my dark brown dress shoes. But the one thing I just couldn't make fancy were my mismatched socks, sorry Rossi.

I slipped my phone and keys into my pockets and heard a knock at my door. I cross over to the entrance and open it to see her. She had on a long, satin, dark green dress. It had a square neckline and small straps went over her shoulders, she paired it with black two strapped heels. Her hair was wavy and fell perfectly on her. She had simple makeup and she looked beautiful.

"You done staring, prince charming?" She giggled, I didn't even notice my mouth had fallen open as I was taking her in.

"Oh— uh sorry I— you're beautiful."

She blushes, "Thank you. You look hot," She mutters.

"Hot?" I tease.

"Did I say that out loud? Damn," She says sarcastically.

I laugh and we link arms and head down to my car. I open the passenger door for her, then walk around to the driver's side.

"You're actually gonna drive?" She laughs, crossing her arms.

"Yeah, figured I would tonight," He shrugs.

I turn on the ignition and classical music fills the car.

"Do you listen to anything other than classical? Don't get me wrong— classical is beautiful but don't you get tired of it?" She inquired.

I grin, "Yeah— okay I'll tell you."

She looks at me confused as I hook my phone up to the Bluetooth on the car, well try to.

"I can't do it, can you connect it for me?" I ask defeated.

She laughs, "You're like a grandpa with technology."

"Shut up," I tease.

She smiles and connects my phone for me. I grab it from her and open up Spotify and find my favorite playlist by my favorite band. No one knows I listen to them, everyone assumes I listen to Mozart twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.

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