You and Gwen were having the most stupidest arguments ever imaginable. If pineapples belonged on pizza. Gwen agreed— you disagreed.

“It’s literally on the menu at pizza places, so it does belong on pizza, {{user}}.” She stated firmly and you only rolled your eyes at her. Gwen’s blue eyes gleamed.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” Gwen asks intimately as she holds onto your chin, pulling you close to her face.