Finley Noah Thompson.
Being abandoned by the one person he had counted on the most flipped his whole perspective on life. Now when it happened a second time, he couldn't cope. Turning to substance abuse, he took pride in the night life. Sneaky links...
Wait right here I'll be back in the mornin' I know that I'm not that important to you But to me, girl, you're so much more than gorgeous
So much more than perfect Right now I know that I'm not really worth it If you give me time, I could work on it Give me some time while I work on it
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None of my exes is over Lil Peep Nobody flexin' as much as I be That's why she text me and tell me she love me She know that someday I'll be over the sea
Makin' my money and smokin' my weed I think it's funny, she open up to me, get comfortable with me Once I got it comin', I love her, she love me I know that I'm nothing like someone her family want me to be
If I find a way, would you walk it with me? Look at my face while you talkin' to me 'Cause we only have one conversation a week
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Look at the sky tonight, all of the stars have a reason A reason to shine, a reason like mine and I'm fallin' to pieces Look at the sky tonight, all of those stars have a reason
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Do you ever look at someone and wonder how the everlasting fuck did we become friends? No?
Lucky you because that is the central thought plaguing my mind right now.
"GIRLLLLLL he wanted to fuck you on that couch. Right there, right then" Marissa cackles jumping up and down as if she just got told Brent is on tour. I heavily sigh as I hear her recall for the umpteenth time, the events that took place at Damon's party on that fateful Friday evening.
I grimace at her high-pitched giggle as she falls onto my bed, ruffling my already-made sheets. She places her hand over her chest daydreaming towards the ceiling of my bedroom.
"You're being delusional again Rissa, what did Mama Daniela say bout that shit young lady" I pause from laying my edges in my vanity, warning her about her wild unhindered thoughts.
She's absolutely hell-bent on reminding me about the blurred night, what I can vaguely recall is taking one too many shots and potentially giving Finley a lap dance.
Would you call it a lap dance?
All I did was move my hips and shake my ass a bit.
I think.
Well from what I can remember, the blatant sensation of his warm hands stunning my skin. Even through the thin barrier that was my dress, I could feel the sparks passing through my being every time he moved his hands. He moved antagonisingly slow, furthering the torture from his soft but firm hands as if to prolong the brazen heat I was experiencing.
