Also, all these dears because you know what I’m going to do.

Lets start with the first week I met you, shall we? The day I first met you- Blake Worthington. You know what you did. You flipped me off, which I find quite strange.

Second day: This is no time for stories or all that jazz. Sorry doesn’t count when you don’t mean it and this? It obviously doesn’t.

Third day: I lazily looked at the clock, bored and all and I felt eyes watching me. I snuck a glance over my shoulder and there you were drawing a weird picture of me which I never understood.

Fourth day: Should I really go on? You kissed me. Kissed ME. I was walking down the hallway, trying to avoid you but of course you saw me. I tried to ignore you but you grabbed m shoulder and then we were staring at each other. I tried to free myself but then you slammed yours lips against mine, which tasted like mint.

Fifth day: I wanted to avoid you very much to an extent that I was talking to myself. My mind was screaming out why this was happening to me.