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EqG Posey x Anon

By rardead82
Created: 2022-08-06 12:03:58
Expiry: Never
anonfluttershyeqgposey (g5)

  1. >You park your car in the faculty parking space of your old high school, Canterlot High.
  2. >You’ve been driving your mom to and from her work ever since the uptick of school shootings all across the country
  3. >Not that there’s any need for you to worry about that around here, but it does make your mom happy that you care enough to drive her every day
  4. >You’ve been trying to make it up to her ever since you broke the news to your parents that you’ve decided to take a break from college
  5. >She took to it surprisingly well but you knew deep down inside that your decision probably upset her more than she let on
  6. >Driving her gives you something to do with your time now that you have a lot of it
  7. >The routine helps your sanity, too
  8. >Anyway, you realize that you’ve arrived a bit early
  9. >Your mom clocks out of work at 5
  10. >Checking your watch, you realize it’s only a little past 4
  11. >You’ve decided to use this time to walk around and reminisce about your time here as a student
  12. >The late afternoon sun had drowned everything in an orange hue
  13. >The hallways look pretty much the same except for some posters promoting some charity event that’s being held two weeks from now instead of the promotional posters that magician girl Trixie would plaster all over the school grounds
  14. >Hard to believe that she’s super famous now *and* married.
  15. >The fame part didn’t surprise you as people have proven that they’ll watch anyone and anything as long as it’s short and not awful to look at.
  16. >What really surprised you was that she got married earlier this year and to a fan no less.
  17. >Apparently, the guy had written a song about her which caught her attention after it went viral.
  18. >You gave the song a listen once and thought that the guy who sang on it sounded insane.
  19. >They probably do deserve each other. Whatever.
  20. > The news that really fucked you up was hearing that your high school crush, Fluttershy, was dating some old creepy professor that she met in her university
  21. >And if you’re being honest with yourself, that’s probably one of the reasons why you decided to take a break from higher education
  22. >You just couldn’t focus with the image of her dating some fucked up old guy out of your head
  23. >You try to shake off that train of thought by remembering all of your old friends
  24. >There were only really two of them. Norman and Wallflower. Three if you counted that Flash Sentry faggot but he was a prick to the three of you for most of high school until the final year where he essentially became a social pariah for simping too hard for that Twilight girl
  25. >He honestly deserved all of the shit he got but seeing him get fucked over repeatedly really made you and your friends partial to him
  26. >You even let him hang out at the gang’s hangout spot towards the final months of school
  27. >Remembering all of the good times that you had with your friends, you decided to pay your old haunt a visit
  28. >It wasn’t anything cool like a secret unused room that only you guys had access to
  29. >It was just a mostly desolate part of the hallway that students rarely ever had any business being
  30. >Most of the lockers weren’t being used and the classrooms there were out of commission and were being used as storage rooms
  31. >You remember vandalizing the entire place with sharpie pens on your last day of school
  32. >You kept telling Norman to keep everything lowkey and tasteful but him being him, he drew the biggest, girthiest, and veiniest cock you’ve ever seen
  33. >Flash, still emotionally vulnerable from his fall from grace, became Norman’s yes man and helped him with their art project
  34. >While you and Wallflower were content with drawing gay little doodles on the floor along with tagging the place with your online handles
  35. >The thought of seeing you and your friend’s handiwork filled you with excitement
  36. >Which made you walk towards your old spot a little bit faster
  37. >As you walked closer to the place, you notice a figure leaning on one of the rows of lockers
  38. >The cadence of your walk came to a halt as you got closer and the features of the person became a lot clearer
  39. >The sight of her long pink hair made your nostrils flare as you involuntarily forgot how to breathe through your nose
  40. >You muster up the courage to speak up and ask
  41. “F-fluttershy…?”
  42. >The girl then turns to face you
  43. >Her face, already in a dour mood, contorts into a scowl
  44. >” No, retard. You’re the fifth faggot this month to mistake me for that cunt. Let me guess, alumni?”
  45. >You were taken aback by the sudden flurry of slurs hurled at you
  46. >Retard, faggot, and cunt were probably the last words you’d expect to hear from Fluttershy
  47. >Then again this girl isn’t Fluttershy
  48. >Snapping out of your nervous state, you examine the girl in front of you
  49. >Her hair was tied back in a ponytail with a green ribbon that matched the color of her eyes
  50. >A vibrant pair of emeralds, a far cry from the two, deep cyan pools that you used to constantly daydream about back then
  51. >Apart from her humbler breast situation, she’s an uncanny facsimile of Fluttershy
  52. >”D-do you have ass burgers or something? Why’re you eyeballing me like that, huh?”
  53. Shit. Sorry. You’re right. Took me a moment there to realize you weren’t Fluttershy
  54. >You notice that she tensed up the moment you spoke
  55. >She crossed her arms, covering her chest
  56. >Fuck
  57. >Did she notice that you were ogling her modest breasts
  58. Oh- to answer your question: Yes. I am an alumnus. The name’s Anon from Batch ’18. I’m just here to pick up my mom.
  59. >You try to break the ice by pushing the conversation along, hoping that she’d forget that you were being a creep just a moment ago
  60. >” Your mom’s faculty, huh?”
  61. Yep! She’s the instructor for the AP Chemistry class, I think.
  62. >” Chemistry? Dude, are you Mrs. Poster’s son, Anonymous?”
  63. Uh…yes? You guys know me
  64. >” Fuck yes of course I do. She talks about you all the fucking time. You dropped out of college, right?”
  65. Ah, good fucking job, mom.
  66. >” Hah! You’re a fucking retard”
  67. >She’s loosened up alright
  68. >Maybe a bit too much, you thought
  69. >But more importantly, why the fuck is your mom telling these high school kids all about you
  70. How often has she done that, talking about me?
  71. >” Enough times for us to be sick of her shit. Dude, she’s using you as a cautionary tale of what not to do once we get into college.
  72. Fucking hell, mom
  73. >You pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration and disbelief
  74. >” Aww is mommy’s poor widdle fuck-up gonna cry?”
  75. >Okay. Fuck this kid.
  76. Listen, cunt. I didn’t come here to be talked down to by some ironing board with the hair density of a 38-year-old chain-smoking spinster. I just wanted to relive some of the least awful parts of my shit life in peace. What the fuck are you even doing here anyway? No one ever goes here. And seeing how we’ve already been talking for a while and no one’s come to meet you yet, you’re probably just as big of a loser as I am, bitch. Goodbye.
  77. >And with that, you turn 360 degrees and begin to walk away
  78. >As you walk down, you start to realize that you, a 22-year-old man, just lashed out on some poor and probably friendless teenage girl
  79. >Sure, she was catty but so were most of the girls back then
  80. >Though those girls were far less likely to call anyone a “retard” or a “faggot”
  81. >The fact that she held an uncanny resemblance to your high school crush, Fluttershy, made the feeling of guilt that slowly crept up on you way worse
  82. FUCK
  83. >You say under your breath as you turn around to head back to your old gang’s spot
  84. I guess I’m gonna be in for an earful
  85. >You thought to yourself
  86. >But at the very least you won’t have the guilt of ‘having made a girl cry and doing nothing about it hang over your head
  87. >Fully expecting to see her as a sobbing mess by the time you got back, you were surprised to find her just sitting on the floor with her knees pressed against her body and her arms loosely wrapped around them akin to an upright fetal position
  88. >Hearing the sound of your footsteps, she lifts her head to look at you
  89. >No waterworks too, huh
  90. >But she does have this crestfallen look plastered on her face
  91. >As you approach her and begin to speak, she cuts you off by blurting out “sorry!” which stopped you from advancing further
  92. >She placed her hands on either side of her body and sat up straight as she began to speak to you
  93. >” Sorry. Again. I don’t actually think you’re a retard, Anon.”
  94. >You stop yourself from uttering “Gee. Thanks”
  95. >” It’s just that—that’s how my friends and I talk on Dicksword?”
  96. Oh. Dicksword. Makes sense. Do you guys hang out here? Is that why you *you’re* here, waiting for your friends?
  97. >” Ooh. Nah. We haven’t met yet in real life. All of our interactions are online. I’ve learned a lot of cool obscure slurs from those guys, heh.”
  98. >Her face lights up at the mention of slurs
  99. >” We don’t really get to use them in chat since our server might get nixed by the system if we kept saying it so we mostly relish the act of calling someone a zigger cunt loving dyke when we shitpost on 4clover.”
  100. >Her face is practically beaming with joy now
  101. Okay, I’m starting to see the bigger picture here.
  102. >” What do you mean by that?”
  103. >Would it upset her to know that you’re pathologizing her demeanor as a byproduct of her caustic and autistic online environment
  104. >Probably
  105. Nothing. I used to post there a lot too back in the day. I began to visit my boards less frequently when I started uni. Tell me, are the mods and jannies still faggots?
  106. >Her demeanor suddenly shifts
  107. >She’s standing there looking at you with eyes as big as dinner plates
  108. >The girl starts to walk closer to you while maintaining her gaze
  109. >” Anon, I…”
  110. >Her face is only a few inches away from yours now
  111. >So close you can smell the shampoo from her hair mixing with her sweat
  112. >She plants both of her hands on your shoulders, looking at you dead in the eyes as she says
  113. >” Yes. Yes oh my fucking god yes a million times yes.”
  114. >She then pulls away from you, as giddy as a dog seeing its owner after a few weeks of not seeing them
  115. >” I can’t believe you’re a 4clover user, too!”
  116. >” This is so unreal! You’ve probably seen my posts, I’m pretty popular on the /sock/ and /r9gay/ boards. I go by the handle Poosey and my real trip is the one that starts with the letters F, t, and c…”
  117. >You tune out of her rambling to think about what you’ve gotten yourself into
  118. >You’re an oldfag, you should’ve known better than to reveal your power level to strangers
  119. >Now this girl who’s openly admitted to shitposting and tripfagging with her friends from dicksword is gushing about board culture in front of you
  120. >The fucking newfag
  121. >You take a moment to look at her, elated to have found one of her kin in the wild
  122. >It might be cringe but it kind of makes you a bit happy to see her so alive and animated
  123. >Even if the reason for her current being is because the two of you happened to browse the same Kirinese Water Color Forum
  124. >You realize that you don’t actually know what her name is
  125. >So, you stop her rambling to ask her
  126. Okay, newfag. I forgot to ask you what your name is.
  127. >” Fuck off, faggot. I ain’t a newfag. I’ve been online since 2016. Anyway, the name’s Posey. Posey Bloom.”
  128. >She playfully punches you on the arm as she replied
  129. Okay, Posey. Cool it with the punches.
  130. >” Why? Your arms sore from jerking your cock off too much?”
  131. >She said as she gave your left should one last playful one-two-punch before stopping
  132. >You furrow your eyebrows and look at the young woman with concern
  133. >Posey realizes that she’s being a fucking sperg again
  134. Uh..no? Anyway, I came back here to apologize to you. I shouldn’t have snapped like that at a stranger. Sorry.
  135. >” Nah, Anon. It’s cool. Now that I know that you’re ((one of us)) too it makes perfect sense. Top bantz game, by the way; h-hehe.”
  136. Seriously though, Posey. I mean it. The mental image of you crying alone in some desolate part of the campus gnawed at me. I’m pretty susceptible to guilt. Hah!
  137. >” Ooooh. Feeling guilty, are we?”
  138. >” I know how you could make it up to me!”
  139. >” There’s a Denny’s on the other side of town that’s open all night. You could help me study for my Chemistry midterm! Maybe we could even get some shitposting done if we have the time.”
  140. Posey I—
  141. >The girl interjects, putting on her best attempt at a puppy dog face
  142. >” But if Anon has some important neet stuff to do in his mom’s basement tonight, I guess there’s no helping it then. I’m gonna flunk my Chemistry class.”
  143. >Posey covers up her face with her hands, pretending to sob
  144. Are you trying to guilt-trip me? This is not how you get people to do what you want
  145. >” W-what d-d-do you mean, A-a-non. These are r-real g-g-g-genuine emotions!”
  146. I can see you peeking at me through your fingers, retard.
  147. >” Ha! You said the word! I’m going to cancel you, ableist!”
  148. >She suddenly breaks out of her façade and pulls out her phone and pretends to start filming you
  149. >” Guys! Posey, here. Mrs. Poster’s son, Anonymous, had just said an ableist slur in front of me. Unbelievable!”
  150. First of all, you’ve probably said “retard” about five times now so I doubt you’re in any position to cancel anyone. Second, I don’t have any form of social media apart from an old private Facebook account so I can easily block that shit out. Lastly, fuck you I don’t have a third thing to say.
  151. >You suddenly grab the phone from her hands to see what she’s been doing with it
  152. You aren’t even on the camera app, you dyke. You’re just on your home screen.
  153. >” Yeah I totally got you, dude. It’s a bit.”
  154. I know, zigger.
  155. >You’ve noticed that her smiles have been getting bigger the further you regress into your online persona
  156. >” I’m a zigger, am I?”
  157. Yes. You. A zigger.
  158. >” Well that doesn’t sound so bad. Most of our culture today is the byproduct of ziggers past.”
  159. >” But…”
  160. Despite only making up thirteen percent of the population…?
  161. >” Dude.”
  162. What?
  163. >” You’re literally me.”
  164. >This manages to get a chuckle out of you
  165. Fine, Ryan Gosling. I’ll help you out. Here, I’m gonna give you my number. Send me the deets about the place and I’ll bring some of mom’s materials over.
  166. >” Oh.”
  167. >Posey is taken aback by your sudden willingness to help her
  168. >” You will?”
  169. Help you review? Sure. But it’s been a while since I studied high school Chem so you’ll have to help me out a bit, too.”
  170. >” O-okay..”
  171. >You hand her phone back to her
  172. >The two of you stand in silence for a moment before she speaks up to break the silence
  173. >“S-so. It’s a date then?”
  174. I guess? It’s more of a study date than anything but sure.
  175. >” Cool. See you later then, A-anon.”
  176. Yep. You too, Posey Bloom.
  177. >The two of you go on your separate ways, promising to rendezvous later that evening for the study session
  178. >Once you got home to prepare for the review, the fridge horror of talking to a teenage high school senior had just set in
  179. >Suddenly you felt super conscious about your physicality
  180. >From your clothes, hair, teeth, and even your posture
  181. >You shudder to think how much of a slob you must have looked in front of Posey earlier
  182. >And worse, how much of a total monster you looked while talking down on her earlier for what is effectively just harmless banter
  183. >The sudden sound of your text ringtone breaks you out of your worried state
  184. >It’s Posey
  185. >And she’s sending you a bunch of meme edits, asking if you’ve seen them before
  186. >You barely recognize any of them
  187. >Instead, you thought to dig up an old favorite class of memes from back when you were in your prime
  188. >You respond to her question with a question of your own
  189. Have you seen this, instead?
  190. > Attached is a Pretty Princess Points meme edit that you drew back when you frequented the /r9k/
  191. >A sense of pride welled up in your chest at the sight of all the little details that you had forgotten about
  192. >From the greasy Hitachi wand barely concealed by the equally grimy duvet to the defeated look on the dadjak’s face
  193. >All of these details reaffirm your belief that you possess an artistic instinct that only a select few in this world have
  194. >You’ve barely put down your phone and your ears are once again met with a flurry of notifications
  195. >Opening the conversation you see Posey gushing over the image macro that you had sent
  196. >” HOLY SHIT”
  197. >” HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA”
  198. >” SHE’S >literally me”
  199. >” did you draw this???”
  200. >” send more thx”
  201. >You grabbed a clean shirt and a cardigan from your closet and put them on hastily, trying to keep up with the torrent of text messages Posey is sending to your phone
  202. >Not realizing that the anxiety that had over your appearance had disappeared because of your new friend’s appreciation for your meme-making abilities
  203. >Instead of finding it cringey, you found Posey's childlike excitement over meme quite endearing
  204. >She did after all like the shitty tendies meme that you drew all those years ago
  205. >You pick up your phone and send her a reply
  206. Are you quite literally like that? I hope for both our sake, your room isn't actually as filthy as this femjak lol
  207. >She replies
  208. >"What business would you have in my room anyway, faggot? Get your mind out of the gutter."
  209. >FUCK
  210. >You didn't realize how loaded that last statement was
  211. >As you begin to write a reply she sends you another message
  212. >"Jk. I've got a lot of cool shit in my room that I've collected over the years. I'll invite you over sometime after all this school shit is done."
  213. >You erase the reply you typed out and instead sent her a curt reply
  214. Fuck you
  215. >"Fuck you too, Nonny. I'll see you in a bit"
  216. >You throw yourself onto your bed, smiling with your phone in your hands all flustered like you're in school again
  217. Goddammit, Posey
  218. >You say under your breath, the smile not leaving your face
  219. >When you arrive at the Denny’s you find a desolate restaurant save for a few zonked-out teenagers behind the counter
  220. >Your eyes scan the area looking for a head full of pink hair
  221. >You spot Posey sitting alone in a booth by the window, browsing on her phone with a pair of headphones on
  222. Yooo, Posey
  223. >While walking toward her, you attempt to catch her attention by calling out her name
  224. >She can’t hear you
  225. >Closing in on the gap between the two of you, you wave a hand in front of her face
  226. >This prompts her to take her headphones off
  227. >“Oh, Anon! You’re here.”
  228. Yeah. I just arrived. You seem to have been completely enthralled with what you were doing.
  229. >” Ha. Nah I was just arguing with someone online.”
  230. Could’ve guessed that. Anyway, what music were you listening to
  231. >You ask as you sit down on the cracked leather upholstery of the booth, setting your bag down against the glass that’s fogged up and moist from the cold temperature
  232. >Posey’s face becomes flushed at your query
  233. >” It’s uhh kinda corny so… promise not to laugh, Anon.”
  234. >Her eyes glance at yours for a moment before darting away
  235. >Perplexed at her hesitance to share her musical proclivities, you reassure her
  236. Posey, I’m not some Anthony Fagtano-watching music snob, alright? I’m not in any place to judge other people’s music tastes. I’m a big fan of Weezer, after all.
  237. >”Those guys fucking suck, dude.”
  238. I know. I love them so much, man. So; what is that—are you listening to 100 gecs or something? Because if you are, then that’s pretty normal for someone you’re a—
  239. >”No! Nothing of that sort. I hate Weezer but I can sit through a song of theirs. That gec band is something else. Super grating”
  240. >”What I really like to listen to are…songsfromtheradiostationinfallout”
  241. Come again?
  242. >”I said. I liked to listen to uhh those old-timey songs from F-fallout. H-hehe”
  243. That’s it? That’s not corny at all. Some of those songs are bangers!
  244. >”Shiet, zigga. Really?! You like those songs, too?”
  245. >You immediately duck into the toll booth upon hearing Posey utter the word “zigga” despite there being no one around to really hear the two of you
  246. >”Ha! Anon, you fag. Relax, my zigga. This is why I picked this place for our study sesh. There’s no one around at this time of night. It’s a z-word safe space.”
  247. >Posey looks proud of herself in her efforts to comfort you
  248. >Looking over your shoulder, towards the counter, the staff seems apathetic as ever to your presence
  249. Not cool, man. At least give me a heads up before you start dropping z-bombs like that.
  250. >”I will….next time. Anyway what are some of your favorite songs from Fallout? I haven’t met anyone irl who listens to this, too.”
  251. >Her redirects her focus back to you, having gained the confidence to talk about her preference in music
  252. Uhhh let me think. All of the Billie Holiday songs on the radio were pretty good. Also that one song that goes “I’m as horny as Kansas in August~”
  253. >In your attempt to mimic the nasal tone of the original singer’s voice, you manage to make Posey laugh
  254. >”What the fuck was that? You sounded like a cat getting raped. I don’t thin I recognize that song from any of the stations in New Vegas.”
  255. That’s because it’s from Fallout 3, z-zigga.
  256. >Having refrained from saying the z word ever since you started college, it felt foreign on your tongue once more and it filled you with much trepidation that Posey had very easily picked up on
  257. >” How can someone be so based and yet be such a cuck? Fallout 3 is dogshit game compared to NV”
  258. >Her statement ignites a fire within you. One that’s been burning for over a decade now.
  259. >But a tempered flame it was as you managed to put a lid on the rant brewing within you
  260. Posey. This is how I know you’re a typical zoomer piece of shit that can’t appreciate ATMOSPHERE
  261. >Your hands gesticulate to emphasize the word
  262. >Posey smiles at your theatrics
  263. I swear. One of these days I’ll get you to change your tune about Fallout 3. Now really isn’t the time since I have to help you study since you’re such a retard.
  264. >”Alright then, faggot. I’m not really convinced that Bethesda could write a compelling storyline that gets players genuinely invested in the characters and their individual personal histories but you do you, fag.”
  265. It’ll be all the sweeter once I manage to make you switch teams. Did you even the main storyline and the DLCs?
  266. >”No.”
  267. Figures. Anyway let’s get started. Bring out your class materials
  268. >”Yes, sir Anon, sir.”
  269. Fuck you
  270. >The two of you finished the review in under an hour
  271. >Turns out Posey didn’t need that much help with the subject
  272. >Her proficiency with the topic made you doubt the sincerity of her request
  273. >’ What the fuck was her endgame’ you thought
  274. >Whatever
  275. >She seemed like a different person when she had her mouth shut and wasn’t constantly being an obnoxious terminally online teenager
  276. >The way her demeanor changed while she was wordlessly answering the drills you gave out, all focused, made you forget that she called you a “retard faggot” a bunch of times earlier with zero hesitation
  277. >Posey looks up from the glass of iced tea she’s sipping away to speak to you
  278. >” Dude. You’re doing that thing again.”
  279. What thing?
  280. >” The thing. This is like the third time you’ve spaced out in front of me. Do you *actually* have assburgers?”
  281. Pfft nah. I’m just in my head a lot.
  282. >” Yeah. You are. Wonder what sort of faggy shit goes on in there…”
  283. >Her voice trails off as she begins to blow bubbles into her drink through a straw
  284. Ah. There it is. You know we should keep track of all the slurs that you drop. Just for fun.
  285. >” Bruh. Your ticker would cap out in like—half a day if you’re constantly around me.”
  286. >A smile forms on your face at the thought of having to rapidly press a ticker just to keep up with the constant barrage of slurs from Posey
  287. But seriously, dude. I was just thinking about someone. You remind me of her. Barring the racism and general edginess, of course.
  288. >” Is this that Fluttershy girl again? The one with the huge boobs? Is this a roundabout way of saying that you think I’ve got big boobs?”
  289. >Posey feigns embarrassment and pretends to hide her non-existent D-cup breasts
  290. No, you fucking retard. I mean; I’m not even a fan of big breasts. For me, the flatter the better. Mhmm.
  291. >You cross your arms, proud; as if you just laid onto her the hottest take of the decade
  292. >” Duly noted, zigga. I see you’ve been checking me out.”
  293. >You freeze
  294. >Sweat beads start to trickle down from your forehead as you realize how an outsider to the two of you could easily brand you as some creep who likes to prey on high schoolers
  295. >Though you honestly haven’t been eyeballing her *that* way, not nearly enough to notice that her body type fits your tastes to a T, you struggle to find a way out of this mess.
  296. N-no…?
  297. >” Hah! Dude, you’re so fucking easy to tease.”
  298. Fuck you. You’re making me feel like *I’m* a creep.
  299. >” You aren’t?”
  300. No! Honest to God I haven’t even looked at your body all that much and I don’t plan to.
  301. Speaking of which I think it’s best if you go home already. No need to make your parents worry! I’ll even drive you home.
  302. >You start rapidly packing all of your stuff into your bag
  303. >You felt like if you stay here any longer with her someone’s going to overhear your conversation and think your one of those groomer freaks
  304. >” Anon, relax. It’s a Friday night! We can hang out for a little while longer. Plus, my parents have their friends over at our house so they’re preoccupied.”
  305. >You finish packing all of your stuff and ask the waiter for the bill
  306. Posey, if you want me to stick around longer, you’re gonna have to cut it down on the “making-Anon-look-like-a-creep” bit
  307. >” But I wasn’t!”
  308. >Posey protested
  309. >She’s finished stuffing all of her class materials into her bag
  310. >She starts to fiddle with one of the straps of her knapsack while waiting for you to reply
  311. Dude. I like you. I even kinda enjoy hanging out with you despite your newfagfaginess.
  312. >” Click! Those count as two slurs!”
  313. Yeah. You’re still ahead of me by dozens. Anyway, I mean it when I say you need to stop ribbing me that way, okay? Someone I know is getting groomed by an older guy and she’s completely oblivious! I just don’t want to be reminded of that, Posey.
  314. >” Ffffinee. I guess.”
  315. >She looks down at the floor, embracing the bag on her lap
  316. >” Sorry if I made you feel that way, Anon.”
  317. >Taking a moment to recollect, you gave her a reassuring reply
  318. No, Posey. I’m at fault, too. I’m just kind of a sperg who forgot how to talk to people in the four years since I graduated high school. It’s not your fault. Entirely. I have a part in it too
  319. >Posey also takes a moment to reply before lifting up her head to look at you, puzzled
  320. >” So was the girl that you mentioned…the grooming thing…was that Fluttershy?”
  321. Yes
  322. >” What’s your relationship with her? Did you guys used to date?”
  323. >You hesitated to answer
  324. >Saying “no” outright might make you look like too much of a loser in the eyes of Posey, you thought
  325. >That’s when you had an idea
  326. You said that you could stay out late tonight, right?
  327. >” Yeah what about it?”
  328. Well, I’d have to be drunk to tell you that story. Can you drive? Wait—how did you even get here?
  329. >” I rode my bike. Also yeah I can drive but I don’t have a license yet.”
  330. That’s good enough. Okay. Next stop. The Bodega.
  331. >” What’re we going to do at the bodega? You’re gonna buy beer?”
  332. Yep.
  333. >After the two of you struggled to fit Posey's bike into the backseat of your car, you were once again met with disappointment when the bodega you drove to didn't have your preferred drink of choice, Steel Reserve 211
  334. >Posey had advised you to settle for whatever the bodega had in stock
  335. >You insisted that you had to have Steel Reserve since it's the one you need to get yourself fucked up enough to tell the story
  336. >Your arguing had amused the immigrant clerk working behind the counter
  337. >He had advised you to try the 24/7 supermarket on the other side of the town
  338. >On the other hand he had advised Posey to have more patience for you, whom he had assumed to be your fiancee
  339. >The clerk's conjecture had left the two of you flustered and whiplashed so badly that neither of you had bothered to even correct him
  340. >Arriving at the supermarket, Posey asked if it was okay for you to come with her to pick some stuff up for her house
  341. >While inside, Posey had gone ahead and wrapped an arm around one of yours
  342. >Initially surprised, you eventually relented and even welcomed the physical contact between you and the cute girl
  343. >To the shopkeeper's credit, you did find a six-pack of Steel Reserve in the supermarket
  344. >Posey inspects the packaging, her eyes focusing on the medieval steel symbol
  345. >"Why is it so fucking ugly? Isn't this the shit that rednecks drink?"
  346. Because the people who drink this, me, don't really care or even notice the packaging. We drink this shit to get fucked up quick. To answer your second question, technically no because that would mean that I spend a lot of time under the Sun; and I don't.
  347. >" 'Gets you fucked up quick', huh. Is it okay if I have a can later?"
  348. It's a 40oz can and it tastes like hell but whatever, knock yourself out.
  349. >"Yes!"
  350. >She might act like a cringey sperg most of the time but you realize that Posey's still a teenager who'll jump at the chance to get drunk and do stupid things to their detriment
  351. >The latter part concerned you, so you tried asking her about it while the two of you were walking to the hardware section
  352. >Posey breaks free from your arm to look at rolls of UV plastic in the gardening isle
  353. Posey. Have you ever consumed alcoholic beverages before?
  354. >"Of course!"
  355. >She said as a matter-of-factly
  356. >"I might browse 4clover and participate in loser board culture in all that but I still indulge...from time to time...heh"
  357. >She replies without looking up from feeling the different rolls of plastic
  358. Oh like in-house parties your friends throw?
  359. >"N-no...at home. My dad let me have a glass of wine at my 18th birthday party. Does that count?"
  360. I guess? But I've found that wine really doesn't give you a buzz until you've had your second glass and unless that's wine from a box, you really don't chug down large amounts of it in a small of time.
  361. >"I see." she replied meekly
  362. So. Don't get invited to house parties, huh?
  363. >"I've only been invited once and that was back in the tenth grade when people didn't know me all that well yet."
  364. So by now the entire school knows that you're an edgy racist, huh?
  365. >"Of course not, retard. You're the only person who's ever seen my power level irl and that's because you're I'm literally (You). No. Wait-- it's the other way around, you're literally me!"
  366. >She grabs a roll of some thick-looking UV plastic and you offer to carry it for her
  367. >Posey notices you struggling with the groceries and walks over to grab the hand of yours clutching the six-pack and pries them out of your fingers for her to carry
  368. >"Gotcha, Anon. Anyway, as I was saying; I learned pretty early on those events like that drained my social battery pretty quickly. Like, I get that hanging out with friends in person is fun but most of the time I feel like I'd be infinitely happier playing New Vegas at home or tending to my flowers."
  369. I feel you. God. It really is freaky how you're basically just a younger me. Except you're slightly easier on the eyes
  370. >"What's this? Anon being sweet? What did he mean by this? What's his endgame?"
  371. >She turns to address an imaginary audience
  372. Yeah and probably ten times more grating to listen to even at my cringiest. Ha!
  373. >Posey pouts and jokingly slams her hips against yours, causing you to lose balance and almost trip
  374. Ouch! Pointy, boney hips!
  375. >"Keep testing me, fag. There's more where that came from."
  376. >The two of you share a warm smile before going through the self-checkout with your groceries
  377. >The two of you drive around town looking for a place to pull over
  378. >Posey suggests heading out to the observatory since 'there's probably no one there
  379. >You hesitate; telling her how cliche that was and how there's probably a dozen teens there by now mucking up the place
  380. >Despite your misgivings, you still humor her and drive towards the spot if only to validate your assumptions
  381. >Pulling up to the parking lot of the observatory, you notice you're the only car there apart from an old beat-up service truck
  382. Shit. I guess we're the first ones here.
  383. >"If anyone else tries to hang out here I'm sure you could easily spook them off, Anon."
  384. >She says as she steps out of your car
  385. Hey. What the hell is that supposed to mean?
  386. I feel you. God. It really is freaky how you're basically just a younger me. Except you're slightly easier on the eyes
  387. >"What's this? Anon being sweet? What did he mean by this? What's his endgame?"
  388. >She turns to address an imaginary audience
  389. Yeah and probably ten times more grating to listen to even at my cringiest. Ha!
  390. >Posey pouts and jokingly slams her hips against yours, causing you to lose balance and almost trip
  391. Ouch! Pointy, boney hips!
  392. >"Keep testing me, fag. There's more where that came from."
  393. >The two of you share a warm smile before going through the self-checkout with your groceries
  394. >The two of you drive around town looking for a place to pull over
  395. >Posey suggests heading out to the observatory since 'there's probably no one there
  396. >You hesitate; telling her how cliche that was and how there's probably a dozen teens there by now mucking up the place
  397. >Despite your misgivings, you still humor her and drive towards the spot if only to validate your assumptions
  398. >Pulling up to the parking lot of the observatory, you notice you're the only car there apart from an old beat-up service truck
  399. Shit. I guess we're the first ones here.
  400. >"If anyone else tries to hang out here I'm sure you could easily spook them off, Anon."
  401. >She says as she steps out of your car
  402. Hey. What the hell is that supposed to mean?
  403. >"It means whatever you think it means"
  404. >You were about to match her with a quip of your own until you noticed her standing by the car with her right arm outstretched, beckoning to be wrapped around yours
  405. >All you managed to do was let out a quiet 'hm'
  406. >So the two of you walked up to the entrance of the observatory, arms interlinked, with you holding her snacks in your free hand while she held your beer in hers
  407. >Only to be disappointed that the place had already closed for the night
  408. >Then you came to the realization
  409. Wait. What the fuck were we thinking? We're going to an observatory to drink beer? What the fuck? Why did you tell me to take us here?
  410. >"You had specifically asked me 'Posey, where's the coolest place in town to hang out?'. Me, Anon. You asked me, someone who usually spends their Friday nights pretending to be retarded on the internet just so some faggot on the other side of the country pisses his pants in rage. Of course I'd tell you to go to a dorky place like this. Also I just wanted to hear you tell that story of yours. I didn't tell you that you *had* to drink and buy me a beer, too"
  411. >'Shit', you thought
  412. >She made a good point
  413. >But as far as cool hang-out spots she definitely could have done worse
  414. >You could see the artsy type teens breaking into the place, thinking that they're in a coming-of-age movie
  415. >But you're not 18 anymore
  416. >You're an unemployed 22-year-old with a bad knee
  417. >On the other hand, Posey's still young
  418. >Going off her description of her average Friday night, she could definitely use some of that pseudo cinema style shit in her life
  419. Fair enough. You've got a point. That one's on me.
  420. >"Good to see you own up to it. Very adult of you!"
  421. Thanks! Anyway, your little speech gave me an idea
  422. >"Oh yeah? What's that?"
  423. >She squeezes your arm with hers
  424. We could break into the observatory. I could boost you up the fence and you could open it from the inside for me. Then we'd have the whole place to ourselves!
  425. >Posey repositions herself to look at you in the eyes
  426. >"I'm taking back that thing I said about you. That's sweet but pretty fucking stupid. We could go to jail for doing that."
  427. Ha! I thought that you could use a little excitement in your life. Definitely thought that you'd be into that shit.
  428. >"Look, I know I'm a retard."
  429. Don't forget 'faggot'
  430. >"Right. But I'm not a *retard* retard, feel me?"
  431. I...guess yeah?
  432. >"O-kay! Yep. And honestly, Anon. This is plenty enough excitement for me already. I'm keen on keeping things low-key, you know"
  433. >Posey looked you up and down as she said this
  434. >Were it not for the lights of the parking lot obscuring your face, she definitely could've seen you blushing at that moment
  435. Fine. But where will we drink?
  436. >"We could just drink in your car no?"
  437. Oh. Yeah. Didn't think of that.
  438. >"Yeah. I mean we could still see Canterlot's skyline from up here."
  439. Mhmm. It's really pretty.
  440. >"Come. Let's get inside the car. It's starting to get drafty up here"
  441. >Posey drags you back to your car, her arm wrapped aroud yours more snugly now
  442. >Probably to warm herself better
  443. >Probably
  444. >Once the two of you were inside the car, you turned the a/c on and got settled in
  445. >Posey hands you a can of Steel Reserve while picking up a can of her own
  446. I'm gonna warn you again. It tastes like shit. This is my go to fuck-me-up juice. Don't try to act cool and gulp it all down at once; you'll puke it out anyway.
  447. >Reaching into the brown paper bag filled with snacks, you throw her a pack of Funyuns
  448. Try to eat some of that while you drink. It'll help prevent you from getting shitfaced so quick
  449. >Posey looks down at the pack of chips on her lap, grabs it, and then opens the thing, making sure to offer you some, which you decline, before going to town on the fried onion treat
  450. >You eventually crack open your can and silently sip away and watch as Posey eats and drinks away in the seat next to you
  451. >"Huh."
  452. What's up?
  453. >She turns to you, looking as though she forgot to turn in a graded essay
  454. >"We forgot to order tendies!"
  455. Maybe next time
  456. >"Oh. So this gonna be a regular thing now?"
  457. Only if you let it. And I know you do.
  458. >You raise your can towards her to cheer
  459. >She clinks your can with her own
  460. >"If it means I get to drink a-and do comfy shit like this with you, Anon. I'm down. F-faggot."
  461. >You chuckle at her futile attempt to hide the fact
  462. >"So anyway. Now that you're all liquored up, you mind telling me about what happened with you and that Fluttershy girl?"
  463. >You take a swig from your drink while mentally preparing yourself for all the unpleasant memories you're about to unload unto Posey
  464. So, I've known Fluttershy since the 7th grade. Well; I didn't *know her* know her. She was a pretty girl way out of my league and I had no mutual friends with her at the time so she sorta flew under my radar.
  465. >You glance to your side and see Posey looking at you attentively
  466. >"Go on."
  467. Anyway. This changed in the tenth grade. She and I were paired up for an av presentation for our art class. Back then I was really into movies and hipster music but I never really talked to anyone about it. My friend Norm had preferred to stick with top 40 normie shit while my only other pal, Wally, had taken a liking to music made for mentally ill people. So, I was pleasantly surprised to find out that Fluttershy had a thing for all that dorky shit too.
  468. >"Wait. Pause. What did you mean by "music for the mentally ill"? That sounds cool, honestly."
  469. It was this glitchy industrial electronic music that heavily sampled vocal chops from 90s ultraviolent anime. Really weird shit.
  470. >"I see why you'd call it that. Anyway, continue."
  471. Okay. So you can probably imagine how excited I was, right? All that pent-up dorkiness would lead me to messaging her constantly about stuff that I thought was cool or that she would find cool.
  472. >"So then after blowing up her inbox with your autistic shit, she couldnt take it anymore so she snapped and blocked you on all your social media accounts, huh?"
  473. Well, that's partly true, to your credit. She never "snapped" or even showed any signs of discomfort around me. Even after I had made several attempts to woo her and make my budding romantic feelings obvious, she never rejected me outright and continued to be my friend.
  474. >"So what happened?"
  475. Hold on.
  476. >Brining the lip of the can to your own once more, you scarf down the cold malty liquid down your throat in a single pass, giving you a heavy buzz
  477. >You crush the can and throw it out the window
  478. >"That bad, huh?"
  479. Yep. Where was I? Oh. So one school day during our senior year, after I had invited Fluttershy to come to see a local live show with me that weekend, her friends Applejack and Rainbow approached me during our lunch break.
  480. Essentially they had explained to me that I had been a constant thorn in Fluttershy's side for the past two years since I've started talking to her. Rainbow, in particular, was very mean that day. She had made it a point to emphasize the fact that Fluttershy did NOT like me and that I had no business asking her out because she wasn't friends with me 'like that'.
  481. >Your eyes felt tender
  482. >The breeze from the a/c had made it obvious that you were beginning to cry
  483. Applejack...she was nice. Only in comparison. She was very candid with how she felt about my relationship with Fluttershy and had advised me to 'tone it down if not completely stop' since I made myself look like a creep in the eyes of her friend group. Me, being the spineless insecure teenager that I was, had immediately apologized to them both of them for bothering their friend. I-- I never even stood up for myself, man. I couldn't. Deep down, I knew everything they said was true. I knew that it was for the best. For both of us. I-
  484. >Unable to contain it any longer, you begin to break into a sob
  485. I-I-I thought I she was my friend, m-man. I didn't know that I was b-being a creep by talking to her about th-things that I liked.
  486. >Reeling from the embarrassment of crying in front of a teenage girl, you put a hand over your face in an attempt to obscure your visage
  487. Posey-- I'm-- sorry. This is r-really pathetic.
  488. >Words felt like lead. Your tongue was a limp slab of meat in your mouth
  489. >Your lungs and throat were heaving from suppressing the sob that had been building up inside you for so long
  490. >Already expecting a barrage of slurs followed by a cacophonous laugh, you were surprised to feel a warm mass wrap itself around you
  491. >Posey had gone out of her seat and had practically leaped toward you to embrace your sobbing form
  492. >Instructively, you hugged her back, wrapping her in the tightest embrace you've ever given in your life
  493. >And she returned the favor
  494. >A loud click had broken you out of your trance
  495. >Looking down, you find that Posey had knelt on the handbrake of the car
  496. Posey! D-dude you're gonna step on the handbrake!
  497. >"Shit! Sorry!"
  498. >The two of you had moved to the backseat of your car as to avoid accidentally releasing the handbrake and crashing to your death
  499. >Your tears had dried up and your crying had stopped
  500. >But your face was still sore from the sobbing
  501. >Posey sat on the other end of the backseat
  502. >She had sat there for several minutes, not saying a word
  503. >You decided to break the silence
  504. She tried to make things up with me, you know.
  505. >"Who? Fluttershy?"
  506. Yeah. She had probably had heard from someone that day that her friends were browbeating me into 'leaving her alone'. She actually made an effort to talk to me and invite me out to hang after class. But I knew how she really felt. It was impossible for me to take her up on those offers when I knew how her friends would feel. It made me really sad. She was all torn up inside about it. I wanted to be there for her but I already knew that I was the source of her distress. I really love her, man. At least, at the time I did. But now all of the memories I have of her before the confrontation have been tainted. Knowing that she'd much rather be somewhere else than to be around me. I don't even have that.
  507. >You sat there in a semi-catatonic state, having relived your worst memories from high school
  508. >Posey shuffling around in between the two front seats had broken you out of her trance
  509. >Befor you could ask her what she was doing, you hear her plug her phone in with the aux cord and a song plays
  510. So, you did play Fallout 3 huh?
  511. >"I don't remember denying that I played it. I just never finished the main quest."
  512. >You notice Posey rubbing her hands together to keep warm
  513. Sorry. Put off having the a/c repaired. Didn't think I'd need it yet. Here.
  514. >You take off the cardigan that you were wearing and hand it to her
  515. >"Wait. What about you?"
  516. Nah. I'm fine, dude.
  517. >"Oh, quit it with that chivalry shit, you fag. I've got a better idea."
  518. >She shifts her body closer to yours
  519. >Your shoulders touch
  520. >And so do your forearms
  521. >Even though the two of you had crossed arms a while ago, this was the first time your skin had made prolonged contact with hers
  522. >You begin to blush again at this realization
  523. >The smell of her hair made things worse
  524. >The light scent of her sweat mixed with the floral aroma of her shampoo had filled your head
  525. >She made no effort to shield you from it as she draped your cardigan over the two of you and rested her head on your shoulder
  526. >"Now that's better." she said looking at you.
  527. >Feeling guilt from the feelings that were beginning to brew inside of you, you felt the need to address the situation
  528. Posey.
  529. >"Yeah?"
  530. What is this?
  531. >Her eyes quickly averted your gaze but she quickly replied
  532. >"It is what you think it is."
  533. H-huh...
  534. >The speed at which she answered had thrown you in for a loop
  535. >"W-what do you mean 'huh'? You're the one who asked the question, faggot. Plus, I think I was pretty obvious with my motives since we left the Denny's. Only a dense retard would have not realized it by now."
  536. But we just met this afternoon! Plus I'm like three or four years older than you. Wouldn't you rather date someone your age?
  537. >"I know. But-- I haven't decided yet if we're...gonna go steady..."
  538. 'Going steady'? Are we in the 50s? Dude. You're taking that Fallout LARP way too far.
  539. >"Shut up, zigger. I meant that I'm still trying to find out if you're someone I'm willing to date. Like. For real."
  540. >"And seeing as how you haven't tried to rape me yet, things are looking well for you, Anon."
  541. What the fuck? You're actually retarded. You go out to some secluded area with a stranger you've just met, who happens to be decently liquored up, and you sit in his car hoping he won't rape you? That's your plan? Fuck, man.
  542. >Posey laughs at your frustration with her
  543. Dude. That shit is spooky and mad retarded. I'm driving you home.
  544. >As you begin to get out of the car, Posey tugs at your shirt, beckoning you to stay all the while laughing
  545. >"Anon! Wait. You're drunk, we're gonna fucking die if you try to drive. Don't think I didn't notice you struggle with parallel parking just now."
  546. Fuck! I'm really starting to feel like a creep around you now.
  547. >"Calm down, faggot. You're not that old. Come. Just sit with me for a while back here."
  548. >Feeling defeated, you resign yourself to sitting besides Posey in the backseat
  549. >You make an effort to put some distance between the two of you by leaning on the car window
  550. >Meanwhile she just scoots over and drapes the cardigan over the two of you again
  551. >This time she has her entire body leaning against yours
  552. >She then grabs one of your free hands and locks fingers with it with her own
  553. >Realizing you have no way to escape, you finish your can of beer and throw it on the car floor
  554. Sorry. I'm a bit of a slob.
  555. >"Oh. Wait till you see my room. I wouldn't have liked your 'pretty princess points' meme as much as I did if it didn't resonate with me personally, you know?"
  556. >She squeezes your hand and nuzzles her cheek against your shoulder
  557. >"So as I was saying. I never got around to finishing the main campaign but I did do a lot of exploring. I get what you mean by 'atmosphere'. It really sold the whole post-apocalyptic thing but if you've played the other games, you'd know that society has basically been rebuilt on the west coast and that D.C. had no logical reason to look as desolate as it did two centuries after the bombs fell. It just doesn't make any sense!"
  558. Oh! Yeah. Right. We were talking about Fallout 3.
  559. >"I'm still waiting for an explanation why (You) think it's a better game than New Vegas, Anon."
  560. Oh. Uhh I don't really have an articulate reason why. It just really makes me nostalgic for the past; it was the first Fallout game I ever played, you know.
  561. >Posey looks at you with feigned contempt
  562. >"Anon... that's...retarded..."
  563. >"But honestly I get you. Plus the songs that they used on the radio really have a way of evoking that feeling of wonder in exploring the ruins of the old world, no?"
  564. Hey so you've actually got taste!
  565. >"Just because I can accurately articulate how shit tastes doesn't mean I like eating shit."
  566. Fuck you
  567. >The two of you laugh at the top bantz you keep throwing at each other
  568. >The rest of the night is spent telling anecdotes of your characters from various runs of both NV and Fo3
  569. >The two of you eventually fall asleep to the voice of Billie Holiday serenading the two of you with her dulcet voice
  570. >You wake up feeling sore all over
  571. >Memories of the night before come flooding back to you as you start to feel your hangover
  572.  
  573. >At one point, you and Posey got out of the car (at her request), for her to demonstrate to you how she would execute someone from behind with a knife and how she'd go about stabbing someone charging her
  574. >Mildly annoyed by her confidence and fueled by inebriation, you decided to test her claims
  575. >You decided to test out her backstabbing skill first
  576. >She held an empty can of Steel Reserve in her hand as a prop knife as she began to slowly walk toward you
  577. Dude, I'm fucking shitfaced and I can still hear your sneakers dragging against the concrete.
  578. >She shouts from behind
  579. >"Obviously, faggot, you won't be able to hear or even care about the sound of someone slowly walking towards you over the sound of gunfire and explosions!"
  580. What the fuck, so we're in a war zone now? You probably could've looted a gun from a dead guy and shot me instead doing that retarded tacticool mall ninja shit.
  581. >She suddenly rushes you and puts a forearm around your neck as she begins to stab you in the back
  582. >You scream profanities at her as you struggle to break free from her grip
  583. >Posey gets into a wide stance and holds the can closer to her torso as she beckons you to try charging her without getting shanked
  584. >Despite your drunken state, you decided to try and go for her 'knife' instead of tackling her to the ground since you were worried you might give her a concussion were she to hit her head
  585. >Posey, on the other hand, did not have the foresight to predict this possibility
  586. >So when you charged at her and tried to pry the can from her grip, she tackled you to the ground and proceeded to 'stab' you as you two went rolling across the asphalt
  587. >"Help!! Help!! I'm being assaulted by a retard!"
  588. You fucking cunt stop shouting that shit! Someone could hear you.
  589. >You were taken back by her ability to throw you around despite her petite frame
  590. >Were she actually holding a knife, you were pretty she would have carved you up like a turkey already
  591. >"AHH ZIGGERMAN HELP!! SAVE ME FROM THIS FAG!"
  592. >She shouted even louder as her wailing eventually trailed off into laughter
  593. >You started to laugh too, despite the pain
  594. >Posey pinned you to your back, straddling herself on top of you
  595. >She pointed the can to your throat
  596. >"Believe me now, fag?"
  597. Yes! I yield.
  598. >"You better..."
  599. >Her words trailed off
  600. >She took a moment to gather her thoughts
  601. >"I really like you, Anon. You know that already."
  602. Yes. I know you have it down bad for me.
  603. >She pressed on the can harder on your neck
  604. >"Fucker..."
  605. >"Promise me you won't hurt me."
  606. What?
  607. >"That's not an answer, Anon. Do you promise?"
  608. Yes, I promise.
  609. >"Promise me you won't leave me once you get to know me better and find out how shitty I behave."
  610. I won't, Posey.
  611. >She released her grip on the can
  612. >Overwhelmed by her emotions, Posey had gone and embraced your lying figure
  613. >Feeling your emotions start to overcome you as well, you return her hug with one of your own, hugging the girl's body in a tight embrace
  614. >The two of you had remained like that for what seemed like an eternity though it was probably only for a few minutes
  615. >Once you realized Posey had fallen asleep on your chest, you rose from your position, carrying her sleeping body in your arms
  616. >You opened the car door with one of hands and gently laid her body in the back seat of your car, careful not to hit her head
  617. >Not wanting to be presumptuous, you resigned yourself to sleep in the driver's seat, thinking that Posey acted only acted that way because she was drunk
  618. >You remember taking one last look at her before going to sleep yourself
  619. >You chuckled at how funny her face looked while she was sleeping, drool starting to pool at the side of her mouth
  620. >The next thing you remember was waking up just now
  621. >You look to the back seat only to find her sleeping body missing
  622. >You panicked for a bit, fearing she had woken up and walked into the woods in drunken haze
  623. >And then you noticed her sleeping in the seat next to you, her hand holding one of yours
  624. >You felt really silly not noticing her next to you immediately
  625. >Then you realized that she did wake up after you had left her in the backseat, got out of the car, and resolved to sleep next to you, despite the marginally more uncomfortable sleeping position
  626. >You smiled at this realization
  627. >You began to caress her hand with your thumb
  628. >You looked to find her still sleeping, her head limp and face covered with hair
  629. >You leaned closer to her, parting her hair to see her face
  630. >You then whispered into her ear
  631. I think I might be in-love with you, Posey

EqG Posey x Anon

by rardead82