chapter thirty-three.

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Craig - Sunday Evening

Yesterday, just yesterday, I bought him a suit for the dance, and now he's out here with some fucking kid who I thought died because he didn't go to school anymore. But I don't want to get mad at him, I'm not that type of person. We walk into my room again, before sitting down on the floor, "I'm sorry," Kenny plays with his sleeves, "It's fine if you want to get mad at me," Rubbing my temples, I sigh.

"Friday, fucking Friday. And now we're back here again," I groan, making Kenny looks at me, eyebrows raised, "And honestly I'm just disappointed," Still trying my best to stay calm, while looking at him.

Kenny rubs his arms, "Are we even then?" He bites his tongue, knowing that I'm ready to say something.

"Even?" I frown, "I didn't fucking cheat on you, because unlike you, I do have other feelings other than being aroused 24/7," It came out harsher than I thought it would, but there's no backing down now.

He exhales slowly, before combing his hair back, "Craig, you are my boyfriend," He says slowly, nodding as he speaks, "I wouldn't cheat on you," I can't help but feel like he's being condescending.

Thinking, I cross my arms, "You've lied before, right? How am I supposed to trust you?" I talked with Clyde today and he told me a couple of things that I didn't know about my current boyfriend, things that I would've liked to know?

"You found out?" Kenny asks softly.

Looking down at my hands, I crack my fingers, "I would've found out in the long run, Ken, that's just how it is."

He looks away from me, his eyes already clouding up, "Is this you asking me to break up?"

"No," I say sternly, "This is not me asking you to stop being my boyfriend, or me asking us to take a break. This is me asking you to tell me the truth, I want to know who Kenneth McCormick is."

He hesitates, trying to blink away his tears, "What do you want to know?"

"How can I be the perfect boyfriend for you?"

Kenny - Sunday Evening

Smiling softly, I place my hand on his, "You already are, don't forget that, you are more perfect than the most perfect boyfriend."

Laughing, we look at each other, "I can't keep on having angry sex with you, god-fucking-dammit," Craig traces my face, "I already know who you are, people are people, we make mistakes and we need to chill. I'm so tired."

I look at him, amused, as he groans, "Same, I feel like I'm going to collapse," He lies down on his back, "Do you think our relationship is inherently only based on the sexual-ness of it?"

Shaking his head, he looks up at me, "I feel like people don't understand that we also have feelings and we don't think about boning all the time."

"Well said, " I smile, there's a pause as he looks up at the ceiling before slowly locking eyes with me, "It still hurts when I bend over, RIP my back."

We look at each other in silence, "Do you want me to do it again?" He says after a while, "You know, just to rearrange your organs like a more perfect than the most perfect boyfriend."

Lord forgive me for what I'm about to do.

"Fuck yes."

( you know the drill, skip to the next chapter; THEY'RE FUCKING AGAIN )

Gradually kissing me, he places his rough hands under my shirt. Shivering, I feel his cold hands warm on my back, "Wait, " He stops me as my hands creep into his sweater, "I need to lock the door."

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