s. macher.

' babe, c'mon - ' his voice is nearly a whine as he leans up on his elbows, half of his long body hanging off the side of tatum's bed, his feet on the floor. he glances over all the clothes that are discarted on the floor outside of her closet, partly annoyed at how long she's taking. why can't girls just throw on yesterday's t shirt like guys do? spray on a little cologne, and it's as good as new. stu has to keep himself from rolling his eyes. ' you look hot, you always look hot - pick something, and let's go, we're gonna be late! ' @tatmrily.

' there's a lot you don't know about me, man, ' smug look adorns the boy's face, stu pulling a bag of weed from the pocket of his jeans, waving it around as if he's just caught a prize winning fish before he tosses it toward jonah. he doesn't know if the other boy smokes, and he doesn't care. they're going to relax, tonight. chill, and then maybe find some mailboxes to beat up with a bat, because that's what stu wants to do. unconcerned with what jonah wanted, stu patted him hard on the arm before he slid his hands back into his pockets. ' like that i'm not just a pretty face. i'm very persuasive, too. got this shit for a steal, ' boy beams. @whorrcr.