porter was your stereotypical, picket fence white boy, with an older sister, a dog, and two happily married parents. think disney movie type family. sparkling blue eyes, unruly blond hair, that million dollar smile. he was what you envisioned when you think of the american dream. everyone believed he’d go on to keep that picture perfect lifestyle.

enter you, the girl he just so happened to run into. he was at the mall with his friends, you with yours. he wasn’t paying any attention (cracking corny, disgusting jokes with his bros), running right into you, letting out a shocked gasp when he felt you collide into his chest with a thud.

that was it. the point of no return.

your warm dark skin, your chocolatey brown eyes that looked up at him with a huff from those pretty, plump lips. you were nothing like what he grew up with. and he was absolutely obsessed. it was almost a bit off-putting, watching him stammer for words as he apologized. you felt bad watching him make a fool of himself in front of his friends, shaken out of the trance you put him in and running to catch up with you, pathetically begging for a date.

you two had been dating for a while now, no more than a year. he’d accidentally ate some leftovers you were really looking forward to, not knowing how much it meant to you. you were giving him the silent treatment all day with him following you around with no shame, begging and apologizing. i mean, you left him no choice. he needed to apologize to you properly.

he’d gotten you your favorite snacks and drink, putting on your comfort movie as he kneeled before you on the floor, you cozied up on the couch like the queen he treated you as, absolutely devouring the goodness between your legs. he’d been going to town on you for nearly an hour, muttering “sorry”'s between laps and licks at your sweetness.

“sorry baby…so sorry.”

he mumbled, my chin slick and eyes pleading.