nineteen: asshole

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It's official.

It. Is. Fucking. Official.

I am an asshole.

A fucking asshole who likes his roommate as well as his high school dream girl.

I looked at the beautiful girl sleeping on my bed as she hug my pillow for dear life.

Allison Springfield.

I smiled as I thought of that beautiful name. Honestly, I never thought that the girl I'd be with is her. She just doesn't seem the type of girl I'd date and I mean it in the nicest way possible. I mean, I don't take things - not all at least - seriously, she does. She smiles, I smirk. Long story short, she's the very opposite of me -

"Stop staring, Danny boy," she mumbles sleepily, cutting me off in the process.

"I'm admiring, Allie," I mumbled back. "Not staring."

She smiled.

"And for the record, don't call me Danny boy," I added,plopping down on the bed beside her.

"And why is that, Danny boy?" she teased, moving an inch closer to me, our lips almost touching.

"Because," I breathed, propping myself up on my elbows, our lips touching for the briefest of seconds. "I don't like it," I finished, our foreheads touching.

Allie didn't hesitate to close the distance between us shortly after, her hands on hair, mine cupping her face.

Out of breath, we eased back on the bed, laying flat on our backs, panting as if we'd run a marathon.

"Didn't pegged you as someone who'd make out in the morning," she managed to choke out between pants.

"Well," I looked at her, "Now you know."

I winked at her and got a snort as a response.

I'm an asshole but I surely adore this girl.

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