"You're my, my, my kind of woman.", You and Pope met months ago, you were a Kook, Shoupe's daughter to be exact. Neither of you would've ever expected to be in the situation you two were in now, infact neither of you even expected a glance from one another.

You two bumped into eachother at the beach, you were just sitting, reading a book, and he was surfing with his little group of Pogue's. Surfboard in one of his hands and a drink in another, he would've ran straight to the water if you weren't in the way of him running; "Shit, I'm so sorry.", he said, after he tripped over your legs, he wasn't even worried about the scrape on his arm that was bleeding, he was worried about you. "No- I'm fine.", you mumbled and he ran off, but as soon as he turned his back to you, you looked up to check him out, little did you know you would see him staring at you too.

Pope and you lay together in his bed, surrounded by the soft glow of the moonlight seeping through the curtains. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest, as you lay on top of him. As your bodies intertwine, he gently plays with your hair, his touch tender and affectionate. Pope gazes down at you, "I think, I'm going to tell the pogue's about us.",