He holds his face to the side, where my vicious hand has put it, before slowly turning it back to me. He laughs mildly.
"Fun, wasn't it? I've even wanted to make you my official wife," He scoff.
I look at him in complete contempt, shaking my head. I feel like I'm being dragged through a madcap movie. This sort of shit just doesn't happen, especially not to me.
Executer, crazy madness and alcoholic arseholes.
How did I get caught up in all of this freakiness guy?
"You're one f**ked up sorry state." I accused.
"Watch your mouth." he slurs.
"You don't get a right to tell me what I should say!" I shout.
" And you don't get to tell me how to do a thing. Not anymore!" I scream.
"LOL. Right now, I'm.a.fucked.up.sorry.state.and.it's.all.because.of.you." He punctuates each and every word on a slur, jabbing his finger in my face.
