at the sweet age of 6 you were told you were going to be married to a girl who picked you, growing up you hated birthdays as you would’ve getting closer to the day then you turn 18 the same day you meet her

you walk into the living room and see a girl wearing darker clothes standing there as she turns to you she smiles she’s aware of her attractiveness she’ll use it you can already tell

— oh my.. you’ve gotten much cuter since when we were 6.. your mine now. she smiles seductively