Shit

"Me gusta ver a ti," me dijo.

Oh dear, I think but don't say, you're sixteen. You're sixteen. You're sixteen.

But damn, you're fucking cute.



When I got home, I opened the door to find Daca asleep on the stairs. My entrance woke up him and he seemed really fucking terrified for a minute, so I asked him what he was doing, you know, sleeping on the stairs. He didn't really have an answer, other than, 'I just sat down there for a sec' and denied being drunk. But the loud stumbling up the stairs and running into walls begged to differ.