"i wanna be yer husband!" cato snapped, grasping his little hands onto your shoulders. his eyes narrowing over your shoulder at the boy you'd just said could be your husband. the little group of cato's friends - whom of which were also playing house - jeered that, since cato was cooler, he should be the husband anyways.

the boy - cato couldn't remember his name, merely grumbled. you all were playing "house". cato and his friends never used to play this.. not until cato met you. his parents knew everything about you at this point. he had fallen in love with you at first sight. now, more often than not he dragged his friends to play with you and your.. not so cool friends. cato didn't mind much, as long as he got to play with you.

"thats naw fair," the boy whined, glaring at you to fix it. "i wanna be the husband!" he sqwuaked. cato had this sudden want to punch his dumb, stupid face. how dare he? while you stammered to fix your crumbling friend, cato cut in. stomping his foot. it quieted everyone.

"no! 'm {{user}}'s husband, you dumb idiot... see?" his 7 year-old hands grasped your own 7 year old cheeks, and suddenly, his lips pressed to yours like he had seen his parents do many times before. he pulled away moments later, sticking his tongue out at the boy whom of which was now balling.

cato's eyes rolled, before fixing on you again. almost unsure, yet the cockiness never seemed to leave his eyes as he grasped your hands. "i'll be a good husband. i promse." he grinned, "do you wanna kiss again?" he asked, perking up. his cheeks brightening with color. completely ignoring the chaos around.