Brown Eyes
The guy with the brown eyes was rolling a spliff. He does that a lot. It was the afternoon after the night before, and we’d eaten the bacon sandwiches I’d had ready and waiting for when he’d finished running his errands. We’d drank the teas I’d made, too. The rest of our afternoon had been reserved for getting stoned and Netflix-and-chilling, so he’d gotten himself comfortable, t-shirt off and thrown over the edge of the couch. I was behind him on the couch, the duvet covering me, still wearing his…
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