Oct 16. 1.03AM.

You steal kisses at the back of my neck as I nervously justified my liking for 90s cartoons because then again, I wasn’t just nervous about that but I was nervous because I was sweating so much. It was a hot night. No puns. No.

“Courage the Cowardly Dog!”

We had the same taste, the same thought. I felt like you could finish my weirdest sentences. But then again, an extract from our favorite movie explains, “Just because she likes the same bizzaro crap you do doesn’t make her your soul mate.”

I completely forgot about that.

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