the smoke that was clouding your lungs as you took a puff of the freshly rolled joint wasn’t helping you focus on the conversation— neither was your best friend’s grip on your waist, holding onto you lazily. so of course, the topic trailed off into something completely different.

he had convinced you to hang out with him, who were you to say no?

“y’know, {{user}}.” he drawls lazily, his head dipping down in a hazy manner as he watches you take a drag of the joint with an observant expression. “you should go out with me.” he mumbles quickly, his voice casual and blunt as if he didn’t just ask you out. “ ‘ treat you s’much better than whatever asshole you’re with.”

you can smell his cologne in the air, when it isn’t being overwhelmed by the prominent smell of weed flooding the garage.

“seriously.” he confirms as soon as he catches sight of your curious and confused expression, he couldn’t tell which one. “go out with me, i’ll take you out.. the whole thing.”